


A Test of Time

by houdini74



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Falling In Love, Fashion & Couture, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Sports, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-24 16:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 44,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20361898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houdini74/pseuds/houdini74
Summary: David is a contractor who goes back in time to collect souvenirs and videos to sell to wealthy collectors. On a trip to 1988 he meets Patrick in a bar in New York. He thinks nothing of the chance encounter until one day he goes to Ray’s to get a permit...





	1. New York, 1988 & London, 1964

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest thing I've ever written, it's mostly romance with sides of adventure/time travel/suspense. The fic is finished, I'll being posting a chapter per day over the next week. And for those who aren't into sci-fi time travel, don't worry, there's an app for that.

**New York, 1988**

David slipped the limited edition Lacroix wristwatch into his pocket, glad the work portion of his trip had wrapped up so quickly. He hated the ‘80s, the fashion was so loud and poofy, everything so extravagant, clashing with his signature black and white style. Still, his buyer would pay very well for the watch, making it more than worth his while to make the trip, even if it meant scorching his retinas with neon green and pink.

He checked the time; it was just past eight o’clock. He could still make it to Manhattan for the real reason he’d wanted to come to 1988. It had taken him three months of research online to discover the date and location of one of Mariah Carey’s first concerts and another three months to find a contract that would take him to the right time. 

Outside, the club’s neon sign flickered uncertainly and the door handle was worn and scuffed where thousands of people had placed their hands. He pushed the door open with his elbow, stopping just inside. It was dark and dingy, a few people were scattered at wobbly wooden tables, most of them lost in their drinks or each other. 

Back in his old life, when the Rose family still had money, he wouldn’t have been caught dead on this street, not even for Mariah Carey. But things had changed since then. He grimaced at the bright yellow case of the Sony Walkman that disguised his GoPro camera. How had Sony sold 400 million of these hideously ugly tape players? Still, no one would give it a second look, giving him the perfect opportunity to record this previously unrecorded concert.

On stage, a scruffy-looking man was doing the final sound checks for the microphones. David was sad for Mariah that there wasn’t a bigger crowd to see her perform, but it would make his recording job easier. His gaze landed on a good-looking guy in a blue button-up shirt who was sitting at the bar. The other man’s eyes met his, and David was sure he had been checking him out before David spotted him. With a knowing smile, he picked his way through the tables to the empty seat beside him. 

The height of the bar stool would give him a better angle to record the concert. And, if it worked out, he wasn’t above picking up a random guy to help him celebrate Mariah’s upcoming success.

***

Patrick didn’t want to go home. Sitting in this bar, which was a complete dive, was better than anything that waited for him thirty years in the future. He’d come here desperate to break out of his comfort zone; eager to try something new. Ever so steadily, his unhappiness had been increasing, his life shifting from the stable and comfortable future that he thought he’d wanted to something less satisfying and more constrained. The walls were closing in and it was like being in prison.

Chronos Inc. was always looking for new contractors, particularly for people with specialized knowledge who were willing to go back in time to collect souvenirs, photographs or information for their wealthy clients. Time travel was big business and there were lots of people who would pay good money for an authentic autograph from their favorite actress or a live video of a previously unrecorded event. 

His contract wasn’t very lucrative, which was probably why he’d been able to pick it up as a rookie contractor. Still, he’d gone to Madison Square Gardens and watched Guy Lafleur and Marcel Dionne play, two hockey legends that he’d never dreamed of seeing in person. The two autographed hockey pucks, one for himself and one for his client, rested in his jacket pocket, a reminder of an experience that he wouldn’t forget. If only this trip could have erased his worry about what was waiting for him back home.

He’d signed on thinking he’d take on a single contract, have the chance to go to a different time and place before he and Rachel got married, before they spent the rest of their lives together. As usual, he started to sweat when he thought about spending the rest of his life with Rachel. He took a sip of his beer, hoping to push the fear away. The thought of marrying her weighed him down, an anchor around his neck that he couldn’t escape. He’d hoped this trip would give him a source of release before he settled into the stable, secure life that lay before him. He picked at the label of his beer bottle, his earlier elation fading as he contemplated his future. 

Perhaps it was time to face reality. His life was a mess. 

The dark haired man caught Patrick’s eye as soon as he came into the bar. He was all in black, for one thing, the dark clothes a counterpoint to his dark hair. He stopped just inside the door, scanning the room and playing with the rings on his right hand. Even in the dim bar, the silver flashed as he moved his hands, demanding attention. As he came closer, the intense dark eyes met his and Patrick felt a spark of desire building under his skin. Normally, he would have pushed it away, like he did with Jim from his baseball team or Peter from the hardware store, but if there was ever a time to throw away other people’s rules and expectations, it was when he was thirty years in the past. He watched the man come closer, letting the attraction build inside him as he approached.

“Is this seat taken?” 

The question pushed him out of his revere and he shook his head. “Be my guest.” Now that he was closer, Patrick could see the other man was dressed head to toe in black, wearing a fuzzy black sweater, some sort of skirted pants and high-top sneakers. Incongruently, he was carrying a yellow Sony Walkman. The bright yellow case popped against his black clothing. 

“I’m Patrick.” He held out a hand. When it grasped his, the other man’s hand was soft and smooth.

“David.”

David considered his drink options and ordered a whiskey from the bartender. “Normally, I’m more of a wine or mixed drinks person, but I don’t want to take any chances with this place.”

“No…” Taking his chances with this man with the dark flashing eyes was very, very appealing. Trying to calm the nerves that fluttered in his stomach, Patrick took another drink of his beer. “Are you from around here?”

“Um...sort of? I used to live in New York but we had to leave. I’m in town on...business.”

Patrick’s stomach clenched unexpectedly at the other man’s use of the word ‘we’. The reality of who he really was settled over Patrick. He followed rules and met expectations. He wasn’t a person who hooked up with strangers in bars. He pushed away the desire he’d felt for David since he’d first seen him across the room. Even if David was available, Patrick wasn’t the type of guy who’d get involved with a one night stand in a smoky bar, no matter how gorgeous he was. Even if he was thirty years from home.

“No offense, this doesn’t seem like the kind of place that someone like you would do business in.”

David looked around the bar, a disgusted grimace emerging on his face as he took in the uneven, scarred tables and the handful of other patrons. He gestured towards the stage. “I’m not here for business, I’m here to see the singer.”

He gave David a puzzled look. Coming to a dive bar for the entertainment was a high level of commitment. Just then, the lights dimmed and a young woman with long curly hair stepped onto the stage. Patrick raised his eyebrows, even though he wasn’t a fan and despite the 1980s hairstyle, he still recognized Mariah Carey. He glanced at the man beside him, David sat up straight on his bar stool, his attention riveted on Mariah. As she began to sing, David mouthed the lyrics to himself under his breath.

He ordered another beer. She was rough around the edges, but he could see the talent that would make her a superstar in a couple of years. Beside him, David bounced slightly in his seat, his lips parted and his eyes riveted to the stage. 

The set ended and David asked for another whiskey. His face was more open than before, as though the music had peeled away some of his barriers. When he turned to Patrick, there was an excited glow in the back of his eyes that hadn’t been there before. 

“Isn’t she great?”

He smiled at David’s enthusiasm. It was contagious and he wished there was something in his life that made him as excited as Mariah Carey did for David. No one else in the bar was watching Mariah, their drinks proving to be everything that they needed. Still, it was nice to know that millions of people around the world would soon mirror David’s excitement for the pop singer.

“She could be a star.” He chose his words carefully, not wanting to reveal what he knew about the future.

“Will be a star. She will be a star.” 

He grinned at David’s conviction, and then, without warning, the other man reached over and kissed him.

***

David didn’t know why he’d done it. What had possessed him to kiss this stranger, with his button-down shirt and everyday jeans in this awful bar? Adrenaline pumped through him, his heart racing from Mariah’s singing. Without a second thought, he placed his hand behind Patrick’s head, touching their lips together. His excitement should have made the kiss messy and forced, instead, Patrick’s lips were soft, he could taste the beer on his mouth. 

Now that he was over the initial shock, Patrick was definitely kissing him back. His lips were firm and gentle, but eager at the same time. It was Patrick who deepened the kiss, licking at David’s lips until they parted, sighing a little as his tongue explored David’s mouth, his hand coming up to rest on David’s chest. 

David pulled back to look Patrick in the eyes. He was interested in taking this further if Patrick was into it. But one look at the other man dashed his hopes that the evening might progress. For lack of a better word, Patrick looked flustered. He bit his lip and stared at the beer bottle clenched in his hands, his knuckles white as they wrapped around it. 

“I think...I think I need to go.” Before David could say anything, Patrick tossed some bills on the bar and headed to the door.

“But...you’ll miss the last set.” With a regretful smile, David turned back to the stage. It didn’t mean anything, he told himself. It was a random encounter in a bar, thirty years from home, it wasn’t as though there was any future in it. Still, he’d liked Patrick and the rejection stung a little. Mariah kicked off the second set, pulling his attention back to the stage. This was why’d he’d come, to have the chance to see her before she’d made it big, to enjoy something no one else knew about. 

By the end of the set, he’d mostly forgotten about Patrick. He jumped to his feet as Mariah finished her last song, not noticing that he was the only one paying any attention to the music. “I love you!” Before his voice could carry to the stage, the bar switched on the canned house music and Def Leppard’s ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me’ drowned out his declaration. 

With a scowl, he picked up the Walkman and headed for the door. He’d gotten what he came for. It was past time to go.

**Schitt’s Creek, 2019**

“How did Ray monopolize the market on time travel permits, anyway?” David filled in the usual spaces on the permit form with his name and contractor number. He hated the paperwork that went along with time travel. It was government regulated because of the amount of money involved and agents like Ray had to approve every time travel request and issue a permit.

“How does Ray monopolize any business?” Stevie shrugged at him from behind the desk at the motel. “Where are you going this time?”

“London, 1964. Barbara Hulanicki is opening her landmark boutique, Biba. My buyer wants a pink gingham dress like the one that Brigitte Bardot wore.”

“Pink gingham. That’s very you.”

“You should know that Biba was one of the first design houses to expand out of Paris, it changed fashion history!”

Stevie rolled her eyes at him the way she always did when he talked about the history of clothes and fashion. It was the one thing he was good at and using his expertise to travel back in time to collect mementos for wealthy souvenir hunters was one of the few ways he’d found to make money in this town. Or at least one of the few ways that didn’t involve bagging groceries or working retail.

He hated having to see Ray whenever he needed a permit. Hated the feeling that he was asking permission when he was the one taking all the risk. And Ray was always so enthusiastic about everything, while always making sure he got his percentage of the contract. 

No one was there when he got to Ray’s. He sighed in frustration. Ray had stood him up three times when he needed his last permit. He didn’t want to drive to Elmdale because Ray was too busy to process his paperwork. There was a bell on the desk, he pressed the plunger, jumping at little at the overly loud dinging noise it made.

“Can I help you?” The voice came from behind him. He turned and then stopped in shock to see the guy who’d rejected him in the bar in New York during his trip two months ago. From the look on his face, he was equally surprised to see David.

The other man flushed before holding out his hand. “Patrick. In case you’ve forgotten.”

“Dav...David. David Rose.” 

He was the one who felt flustered now. He hadn’t forgotten Patrick. He was a nice guy and nice guys were rare in his world. At one point he’d even had a brief fantasy about going back to 1988 to see if he could run into him again. Still, Patrick had made it quite clear that he wasn’t interested in David. Unfortunately, the attraction he’d felt for him in New York was still there. David could feel it humming under his skin. He cleared his throat and they stared at each other awkwardly for a moment.

“I...uh...I need to file the permit for my next contract.” He handed the partially completed forms to Patrick, sitting on the edge of the chair in front of his desk. 

“Okay.” Patrick typed his information into the computer and squinted at the screen. “Hmm. It says here you haven’t submitted your paperwork from your last trip?”

David winced to himself. He wasn’t good at the paperwork that was part of being a time travel contractor. His buyer had been thrilled with the Lacroix watch, wasn’t that all that mattered? “Um...I just need to finish a few things.” He hadn’t started the report yet, but Patrick didn’t need to know that.

“I’m not supposed to issue a new permit without closing the previous one.” 

Patrick was only following the rules, but he was annoyed anyway. He thought about when he’d kissed Patrick in New York, how Patrick had returned his kiss so tenderly before he ran away, his fingers splayed against David’s chest. “Is this because of what happened in New York?” He blurted out the words without thinking.

Patrick flushed, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to play hardball with you, David.” 

“I don’t know what that means.” His eyes kept returning to Patrick’s lips. He remembered how soft and eager they had been in New York and he wanted to kiss him again. But this was pointless, he’d given Patrick an opportunity, and he’d rejected him. He dragged his attention back to what Patrick was saying.

Patrick sighed, twisting his hands together. “Just get the report in, I don’t want to have to run interference with head office.” He turned back to the computer and the printer on the side cupboard sprang to life. 

Before David could tell him again that he didn’t understand his sports metaphors, there was an enthusiastic voice behind him.

“David! Off on another adventure?” Startled, he jumped when Ray spoke.

“Mmm hmm.” The last thing he wanted was to be drawn into an interminable conversation with Ray. 

“Well, be careful out there. I was at the meeting for regional time travel registrars and there was a lot of talk of the recent rise in time crime.”

He was going to regret asking. “Time crime?”

“Yes! Contract theft, even hostage taking!”

“That seems unlikely.” He couldn’t imagine why anyone would bother holding him up to steal one of his contracts when anyone could bid on them online. The only danger he’d found was kissing straight-laced business majors at a bar and then having them turn up unexpectedly in the present. He turned back to Patrick, who slid the completed permit across the desk.

“Here’s your travel code, just input it…”

“...into my phone app. I know.” When time travel had become a reality, no one had believed it could be as simple as entering a code into a smart phone app. After decades of seeing time machines on TV, the reality had been a bit of a let down. But reality was mostly a let down, why would time travel be any different? For many people, the biggest disappointment had been that it was impossible to change the past. As a result, time travel had quickly moved from a matter of international security to the provenance of souvenir collectors and tourists. 

Anyone could time travel, but you had to have a permit and to get a permit you either had to have a contract with a buyer who wanted a specific item or you had to pay money to a tour group. As long as someone paid the price, you could go whenever you wanted.

Patrick passed him his business card. His fingers touched David’s and a small shock ran through him. “When you get that report done, how about you call me?”

“Okay.” He didn’t know why he was so put-out. Patrick had done him a favor by processing his permit without the report. That night in New York had him on edge and he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Patrick and how he really, really wanted to kiss him again. He needed to leave before he said something he regretted. Patrick’s voice followed him out the door.

“It was good to see you again, David.”

***

Patrick stood up as David’s black and white sweater left the room. It was just his luck to face the man he’d run away from in New York. What were the odds that the random person who’d kissed him in 1988 was not only another time traveller, but someone who had just walked out of his office? Pretty low, he assumed. 

David was as striking as he remembered. His senses buzzed as the attraction he’d felt for David in New York reignited. He wanted to kiss David again, he wanted anything David could give him. And underneath the want and the longing was an overwhelming feeling of relief. 

When he’d returned from his first and only time travel trip, he’d laid awake every night after Rachel had fallen asleep and remembered his meeting with David, the feeling of the other man’s lips against his. Coming home to Rachel was like voluntarily going to prison every night although going to his boring job during the day hadn’t been much better. After a month, he’d broken things off with Rachel and packed his car, heading for Schitt’s Creek and his new job with Ray.

He’d assumed that he’d never see David again. Now here he was, standing awkwardly behind his desk as the man who had inadvertently changed his life walked out of his office. Suddenly, his legs were shaky, so he sat abruptly in his desk chair. He’d questioned himself a thousand times since breaking things off with Rachel. Throwing away his entire life because of a kiss with a stranger was not what he did. It was not what was expected. But, it was exactly what he had done.

He regretted running away from David that night. Regretted that he hadn’t stayed and kissed David again. Seeing him today felt like he’d been given a second chance. And yet, David didn’t act like he was glad to see him. Undoubtedly, he thought Patrick had rejected him. Or, David felt nothing for him and was just as happy to never see him again.

His phone buzzed with a text as he was shutting down his computer for the day. 

**David:** Hi, this is David. David Rose.

A second and third text quickly followed before he could respond. Amused, he waited for David to finish his thought.

**David:** From your office today?  
**David:** That’s in case you know more than one David Rose  
**David:** Or you have incredibly bad short term memory loss

He couldn’t help himself.

**Patrick:** I’m sorry. Who is this?

There was a long pause before David’s next text appeared.

**David:** Okay. You think you're very funny.  
**David:** Anyway, I think you messed up my permit.  
**David:** It says I’m going to 1694 when I want to go to 1964.

Shit. He hated it when he made stupid mistakes like that. Seeing David so unexpectedly had ruined his concentration.

**Patrick:** I’m really sorry. You’ll have to come in tomorrow so I can fix it.

As much as he hated that he’d made such a basic mistake, his heart skipped a little at the thought that David would have to come and see him the next day.

**David:** Okay, you can expect me first thing.  
**David:** I’ll be there right after 10:00

His day started at eight and he chuckled at David’s definition of first thing in the morning. What was it like to live outside the rules? Did David find it exhilarating or frustrating to run roughshod over people’s expectations?

**Patrick:** See you tomorrow.  
**Patrick:** And bring that report!

He fell asleep that night with a smile on his lips, thinking about kissing David Rose.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to 1694?”

When had Patrick become so lippy? He hadn’t remembered that from their first meeting and yesterday they’d both been so stunned at seeing each other that the conversation had been stilted. “There is no couture fashion in 1694.” He gave Patrick a pointed look as he handed over the missing report that he’d finished at the last minute this morning. Patrick simply grinned back at him, giving David a look that told him the Patrick knew exactly what he was doing with his mocking questions.

“I don’t know, I think you’d look dashing in tights and a powdered wig.”

Was Patrick flirting with him? This couldn’t be the same person who had run away from him in New York, who was now talking about picturing David in tights. He scowled in response, not wanting to give Patrick the satisfaction of a reply. 

“If you’re into that kind of thing, maybe you should be the one to go to 1694.”

A strange look crossed Patrick’s face, and he looked down at his desk for a minute. “I don’t...I don’t really do that.”

“Do what? We met in New York, right? You weren’t some figment of my imagination?” Patrick was confusing. He’d been confusing from the beginning, a mix of confidence and hesitation, of casual teasing and subtle flirtation. Once again David thought of New York, he was sure that Patrick had returned his kiss at first before he had left so abruptly. 

Patrick sighed, fiddling with one of the pens on his desk. “No. I mean yes, we did meet then. But that’s the only trip I’ve ever taken.”

“Well, if you ever want to go, I could take you. Not to 1694. But to some other time.” David didn’t know why he was offering to take this infuriating man, who he desperately wanted to kiss but who had rejected him so thoroughly, on a time travel adventure, but he was. 

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Patrick finished typing the information into his computer. 

“I think you’d…”

Patrick cut him off. “Ssshhh. I need to read this so I don’t screw it up again.” He forced his face into a stern expression, but it was ruined by the smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

David sat impatiently, fidgeting with his rings as Patrick reread the form. Finally, the printer started up and Patrick handed over the new permit. 

“Maybe when you get back...we can have dinner and you can tell me all about it.” Patrick glanced at him quickly before straightening up the papers on his desk. He seemed uncertain again, as though he didn’t know how David would respond to his invitation.

“I’d like that.” Patrick’s warm smile and the soft look in his eyes drew David in, much as they had in New York. Kissing him again was a tempting idea, but even if he’d intended to follow through, the desk sat solidly between them. Instead, he smiled unevenly at Patrick and headed back to the motel, thinking about 1964 and high fashion and Patrick.

**London, 1964**

David typed the code into the app on his phone. The app was deceptively simple, there was a box to enter the code and two timers, one for the amount of time he’d be in the past and a second one that counted down the 24-hour period he would be away from the present.

He’d requested 48 hours for this trip to 1964. Most time contractors went for a week at most, sometimes two, while the travel tours, like the ones that Alexis led, would often go for a month. The time difference in the present was always the same, however. If you weren’t back in 24 hours, Chronos would send a team after you to find out why.

He double-checked the permit code and took a deep breath before pressing enter. For a quick second everything went white and then, without warning, he stood on a busy street in London, across from the Biba boutique.

“David.” The voice came from behind him. He turned to find a scruffy-looking man leaning against the wall, hips cocked, legs splayed. The casual posture was an affectation, everything about him was an affectation.

“Sebastien.” Self consciously, he took a half step back, not wanting to put himself within Sebastien’s reach. “What are you doing here?”

“Is it a crime to say hello to a friend?”

“We’re not friends.” Inexplicably, he thought of Patrick. Thinking of his steady confidence made him sure that whatever words best described his fucked up relationship with Sebastien Raine, friends was not one of them.

He turned to walk across the street. To his annoyance, Sebastien followed, grasping his elbow when they reached the other side, pulling David to face him. “We had something once, I think this is a ripe opportunity for us to work together.”

“What we had was a relationship where you hurt me and used me and I let you. Forgive me if it’s not an experience I want to repeat.” He pulled his arm free. “How did you find me, anyway?”

Sebastien’s eyes shifted away from David. “Your friend told me where you were.”

“How have you been talking to my friends? And which friend?” Stevie would never give Sebastien the time of day and since she was his only friend, he couldn’t think who else Sebastien might be talking about.

“Peter? Percy? Something like that.”

“Patrick.” Why would Patrick have told Sebastien where David was? It would be a breach of confidentiality for him to share details of a contract with someone else. Unless Sebastien had manipulated him into it, which was entirely likely, he could be charming when he wanted to be. He wouldn’t have thought Sebastien’s brand of seedy charm would appeal to Patrick, but stranger things had happened.

He stepped back from Sebastien. “We’re done here.”

“Oh, I think I’ll see you again. So long for now, David.” With a sleazy smile that made David’s skin crawl, Sebastien turned and walked away.

David stared after him for a moment, arms crossed, hoping he never had to see him again. After a moment, he pulled himself together and headed into the boutique to see if he could acquire the pink gingham dress he needed to fulfill his contract.

***  
**Schitt’s Creek, 2019**

Patrick checked the time. According to his permit, David would be in 1964 right now, immersed in early London fashion. Or something, Patrick wasn’t entirely sure he understood the purpose of David’s contract. Still, it was slightly surreal to think that the person he’d spoken to the day before was 55 years in the past, well before either of them had been born. 

He stared at the computer, not really seeing the file he’d opened. He couldn’t stop thinking about David. He’d been thinking about him on and off for two months, ever since their meeting in New York, but seeing him again, face to face, had reignited all the feelings and fantasies he’d had since he’d left Rachel and run away to Schitt’s Creek. 

He was tired of thinking about Rachel and his past life, tired of the relentless press of expectations. He wanted to chase down this spark that he felt for David, to see if it would burn out or grow into something bigger. No one knew him here, no one was looking over his shoulder. If he wanted to date David Rose then he could do that. Was that what he wanted, to date David? It seemed like an inadequate word to describe the things he felt and wanted to do with David.

The cursor on the computer screen blinked at him. It hadn’t moved since he’d opened the document 45 minutes ago. He ached to know all of David. Not just to feel the softness of his skin and to feel what it would be like to touch him and be touched, but to learn his past, to understand what had shaped this dramatic, defensive man into the person he’d met. 

Ray had shared the stories about how the Roses lost their money. Like many of the townspeople, the family’s distinctive fashion baffled Ray, even as he was intrigued by their presence in town. But Patrick suspected that like their carefully curated clothes, the Roses showed people how they wanted to be seen not who they really were. 

He opened the time travel permit database and did a quick search for David’s name, pulling up his travel history. There were dozens of trips, beginning roughly three years before, presumably when the Roses had ended up in Schitt’s Creek. New York, London, Paris, Rome, every trip was connected to the fashion or entertainment industry. On several occasions, David had been fined for incomplete or late paperwork, on one trip to New York, the fine had cost him two thousand dollars. 

He stared blankly at the screen, his thoughts running in circles. He envied the apparent ease with which David traveled through time, the newness and excitement of it didn’t seem to faze him. He wanted that. At the back of his throat, the desire for adventure threatened to spill out of him, pushing aside other people’s expectations for his life. Maybe if he offered to help David with his paperwork, if he did some things he was good at, then David might offer some of that adventure in exchange. And maybe he’d offer something more, a small voice inside him suggested before he could push it away.

***

David returned to the motel and tucked the bright pink Barbara Hulanicki dress into a wardrobe bag in his closet when his phone buzzed with a text from Patrick.

**Patrick:** How was your trip?

How Patrick had known when he would be back from 1964 puzzled him until he remembered the permit. Each permit specified the exact time of return, a security measure to prevent time contractors from attempting to remain in the past. And in some cases, time contractors had run into problems that had only been discovered when they failed to return as scheduled.

He wasn’t sure how to answer Patrick’s message. His trip had been frustrating. It had taken longer than he would have liked to secure the required dress and everyone he’d spoken to was laid back or drugged out to the point where negotiating the sale was almost impossible. To make matters worse, he had spent an unnecessary portion of the trip thinking about Patrick. He was tired and irritated but the text from Patrick made his heart skip. Before he could respond to the text, his phone buzzed a second time.

**Patrick:** We could go for dinner and you can tell me all about it?

There were a hundred things he wanted to say, a hundred questions he wanted to ask, including whether Patrick was asking as a friend or something more. In the end, he replied with the simplest answer.

**David:** Okay.

Patrick was waiting for him when he got to the cafe. He’d traded his department store button-down shirt for an equally mainstream slate blue sweater. It was an appalling fashion choice and it was soft and sexy and David wanted to run his hands over it. As David sat down, Patrick slid a piece of paper across the table to him. David raised an eyebrow at him.

“What’s this?”

“I brought your paperwork, so you don’t fall behind.” Patrick smirked at him. As was always the case when they spoke, he oscillated between attraction and irritation. He wanted to wipe the smirk from Patrick’s face, he just wanted to use his lips to do it. 

He knew Patrick was being deliberately annoying, but it had been a long fucking day. Before he could think it through, he pushed the paper back at Patrick. “You’re not my mother.” 

Amusement filled Patrick’s eyes as he tilted his head to one side. Patrick might be the first person he’d met who was unfazed by anything he said and did. What would it take to get a rise out of him? More than this verbal sparring, perhaps. He wanted to see if he could find out. 

Patrick pushed the paper back towards him. For a moment, he was riveted by the lines of his hand, imagining how those strong fingers would feel against his skin. With an effort, he pulled his attention back to what Patrick was saying. “I definitely don’t want to be your mother, David.”

He might crack open at the suggestion lurking beneath Patrick’s words. He closed his eyes for a second. The answer terrified him, but he had to ask. “What do you want, then?”

Patrick’s eyes flicked to his lips before they returned to meet his. “Tell me about your trip, David.”

“Tell me what you want.” He wasn’t sure why he was trying to force the issue. In the past, demanding that people clarify their relationship usually resulted in them breaking up with him, or saying they wanted an open relationship, or in one case, insisting they’d never been in a relationship, despite dating and having sex for a month.

“Why did you kiss me? In New York.” Patrick looked at him intently, David could tell the answer was important to him. The truth was because Patrick had been there and he was good looking and because David had thought he’d never see him again. He sensed that answer would hurt Patrick and for maybe the first time in his life he didn’t want to do that.

“I...It just...I wanted to.” He didn’t know how to read Patrick. He flirted like he was interested, but he acted like he was straight. 

“I’m glad you did.” David wanted to kiss him again, to see if he could shake Patrick free of the sincerity he’d put behind the words, but they were at the cafe so he gave him a half-smile instead.

“Tell me about your trip.” Patrick’s voice was softer this time, his curiosity clear on his face. So David told him about arriving in 1964, about the disorganization at the Biba boutique, at the shop assistant’s insistence that the dress he wanted wasn’t available for sale, about his frustration with the crowds of people. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t tell Patrick about running into Sebastien, he didn’t want to talk about his past relationships and if Patrick had told Sebastien when he was, he didn’t want to know about it.

When he finished talking, Patrick pulled a pen from his jacket pocket and filled in the bottom half of his reporting form. He stopped writing and tapped the pen against the table. “Who’s your buyer?”

“Michelle Radler.”

Patrick raised his eyebrows. “_The_ Michelle Radler?” Michelle Radler was a multi-millionaire who’d made a name for herself at the forefront of the fashion industry, she had a reputation for wearing famous brands before anyone else did.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I knew her...before. She likes that she can make me run and fetch things for her.” He and Michelle had spent a week together in the south of France before it had ended badly and he found her fucking his assistant in his condo. Michelle hired him in part because she wanted to humiliate him, but they shared an interest in fashion and she paid better than any of his other buyers.

Patrick slid the pen and the completed form back across the table. David narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re very annoying.”

“Sign the form, David.” Patrick’s voice was soft, far more intimate than the irritating paperwork deserved. David gave it a quick glance and scrawled his name at the bottom. 

“Is this why you invited me to dinner?” He hadn’t wanted to think about why Patrick had asked him out, a date was unlikely but paperwork wasn’t the most pathetic reason he’d gone out with someone. 

“Nope.”

He raised an eyebrow at Patrick, determined to wait him out.

“I wanted to take you up on your offer to take me on a trip. And, I think I can help you.” Patrick’s words were confident, but he twisted his hands together in a way that made David think he was uncertain what his reaction would be.

“Do I need help?” He couldn’t help himself from pushing back at Patrick. Even as he latched onto the idea of spending more time with Patrick, he didn’t want to make it too easy, to acknowledge how much Patrick might help him. 

Patrick glanced down at the now completed form and raised his eyebrows at David. Patrick’s direct look made that mixture of annoyance and attraction course through him again, he played with one of his rings to stop himself from reaching out and touching Patrick’s arm.

“Okay, fine. What do you get out of this arrangement?”

“You can show me the ropes.”

“What ropes?” Did Patrick want David to tie him up? Not that he wouldn’t be into that, but it was pretty advanced and Patrick didn’t seem like the kind of guy to jump into that sort of relationship. At least, he hadn’t been so far.

Patrick grinned at him. “The time travel ropes. You can share your years and years of wisdom.”

“Okay.” He flushed a little, still thinking about other uses for ropes. He narrowed his eyes at Patrick, annoyed by his insinuation about his lengthy experience.

“Okay, we have an arrangement or okay you understand what the ropes mean?” Patrick’s insistence on clarifying the details was probably what made him so good at finishing David’s paperwork. It was annoying. Patrick needed to stop talking about ropes. An image flashed into David’s mind of Patrick secured to a bed frame, his arms and legs spread and his eyes blown wide.

“Um...both...but the first one. I look forward to working with you.”

The moment had become awkwardly formal. Should he shake Patrick’s hand? The remnants of his vision of Patrick tied to a bed lingered at the back of his mind, a fantasy that he couldn’t stop thinking about. 

“Where do you want to go?” He should have clarified that before he’d agreed to Patrick’s proposal. What if he wanted to go back in time to see some tragic event or even worse, a political debate?

Patrick shrugged. “You choose, surprise me.”

He cocked his head and considered his options. He was tempted to take him somewhere intense, to test Patrick’s mettle, to see if he could take it, if he could put up with David at his worst. Except he wanted Patrick to enjoy himself, wanted him to time travel with him, maybe not just once, but as many times as he wanted to go. 

***


	2. Barcelona, 1992

**Barcelona, 1992**

Patrick opened his eyes, slightly dazed from the trip through time. There were people everywhere, streaming into a stadium he didn’t recognize. It was hot and above the roofline he could see the Olympic rings silhouetted against the skyline.

“Where are we?” He’d kept his promise and refused to look up the permit details in the database when David had made the arrangements with Ray. And now, here he was, in a different country and a different time. Stepping out of his comfort zone and going back in time to New York was one thing, but this was a different adventure. He never would have done this without David.

“Barcelona, the opening ceremonies are about to start.” 

His eyes wide, he grinned at David and followed him into the line that stretched out the door of the stadium. The plaza was bright with sunshine and most of the people were wearing shorts and carrying cameras. David’s black clothing stood out in the sea of tourists. He must have been boiling in his black and white sweater, but he didn’t show any sign of it. An excited murmur ran through the crowd as they waited. 

“I’m surprised you chose a sporting event.” Based on their conversation at Ray’s he hadn’t thought David was into sports. 

“The opening ceremonies aren’t about sports, they’re about artistic performance and design.” David’s voice challenged him to disagree. 

The line moved quickly and they made it inside the stadium and found their seats. David handed Patrick an old style point and shoot camera that was modified for digital recording. The open-air arena was huge and packed with people. At one end, a marble archway framed the stage, the Olympic cauldron, as yet unlit, sat on top of a tall tower to one side. The main floor, which surrounded the track for the athletics events, was empty, waiting for the performers and athletes to arrive.

“So, what are we here for?” 

“It’s an open contract, so anything we can get, along with any photos and video. The contract’s not anything special, I just thought you’d enjoy the show.” 

David smiled at Patrick softly, and for a second he could feel something crackling between them, even amidst the noise and color of the crowd. He stepped away from David, suddenly overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. “I’m going to get some photos.” He gestured towards the walkway in front of them that overlooked the main stadium.

He took a deep breath as he leaned against the railing, his attraction for David hummed inside him, making it hard to think about anything else. He took a few photos of the crowd and the stadium, hoping to get some decent shots before they dimmed the lights for the show. He could feel David’s presence behind him, like a magnet that his thoughts kept snapping back to. He was so busy thinking about David, that the man who came up beside him took him by surprise. 

“Looks like it should be a great show.” The other man was shorter than he was, with dark hair and glasses. He wore a gray polo shirt and his shoes were oddly squared off at the toe. 

“Yeah, I can’t wait.” He turned to go back to his seat when the other man held out his hand.

“I’m Ken.”

“Patrick.”

“Is this your first time?” Ken leaned closer as he spoke. 

“At the Olympics? Yeah, how about you?” In his seat, David was engrossed in his program for the Opening Ceremonies. He wouldn’t get any help escaping this conversation from him.

“No, not at the Olympics.” 

It was a weird thing to say to someone you’d just met. Patrick’s eyes narrowed as he tried to determine the meaning behind his words. He tried to think of an appropriate response. “Where are you from?”

Ken smiled at him knowingly. “2019 and Toronto.”

“Huh.” Surely Ken was taking a big risk by being so open about his time travelling abilities, but it wasn’t like he had any experience with time travel protocols. 

“So, do you have a good contract? Were you able to get a good buyer?”

Patrick took a half step back, uncomfortable. How did Ken know he was a time traveller and why was he pushing him for details about his contract? It felt like asking someone for their proprietary business information. He shrugged. “My partner handled the contract.”

“Ah. If was traveling with someone, I’d want to know all the details.” Ken stared at him, questioning his judgement.

“Uh-huh.” Patrick didn’t know what to make of Ken. Was he hitting on him? Was he trying to steal their contract? He frowned and inclined his head, puzzled.

“Well, if you ever want to get together to talk shop, or just to talk, give me a call.” Ken handed him a slip of paper with a phone number written on it. He walked away and Patrick stared after him in confusion. He wound his way through the seats to the row where David was sitting, Ken’s number still in his hand.

“Who was that?” David teased him, but there was a note of wariness in his voice. His face was more closed off than Patrick had seen it before.

“Some guy from the present named Ken, he gave me his number.” He stared down at the piece of paper, confused about his conversation with Ken. Maybe this happened regularly, time travelers hitting on each other in different times. After all, this was his second trip and the second time it had happened to him. 

“Are you going to call him?” David tried to sound casual, but his eyes were worried. 

“Hmm...depends how things go with this guy I’m on a date with.” Ken didn’t interest him. Ken didn’t wear black and white clothing or stare at him with dark, piercing eyes. 

“Is this a date?”

Worried that he’d overstepped, he was about to backtrack when he saw the smile flickering at the corner of David’s mouth. The lights dimmed and he tore his gaze away from David to look at centre stage as a familiar voice filled the stadium.

“Is that…”

“Freddie Mercury? Yeah, he was supposed to perform the theme song but he died a year ago.”

Being in the centre of the crowd was an entirely different experience than what he’d seen on TV. He sat forward in his seat, mesmerized by the movement and the color of the dancers and acrobats as moved and shifted to form and reform the history and potential of Barcelona. The crowd had been on their feet for the last half hour and he and David joined them as thousands of people clapped in time to the music. He was so caught up in the spectacle that he almost didn’t notice when David placed his hand at the back of his neck and leaned close so that Patrick could hear him over the music.

“Look.” 

To his left, on the edge of the stadium, he could see the tiny torch as they brought the Olympic flame into the arena. David’s hand rested at the crook of his neck, his fingers warm against his bare skin. Without thinking, he leaned into the touch, wanting more contact, to feel David’s body against his. David drew him close, resting his chin on his shoulder as the torch bearer make his way to the platform where an archer waited to light the Olympic cauldron. Along with the rest of the crowd, he gasped as the arrow flew through the darkened stadium to ignite the Olympic flame. 

Before he could react further, David’s hand slid to the back of his head, turning him slightly and kissing him. It was different than their first kiss, maybe he was more comfortable or maybe he’d been expecting it, longing for it. Either way, he kissed David back, their lips parting as the kiss deepened. Despite the crowd of people, it was as though they were alone, with everyone’s attention riveted on the stage. 

He leaned back into David and he trembled as David placed a kiss behind his ear, the unexpected touch made him shiver and he brought his hand up to cup the back of David’s head for a second before letting it fall away. He smiled softly at David as they broke apart, David’s hand was still resting on his neck.

“You’re not going to run away again, are you?” He winced a little at David’s insinuation, running away from David was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

He shook his head, moving closer. “Not unless you want me to.”

David’s laughter vibrated against Patrick’s back. “Maybe we’ll save that for a second date.”

His heart rate spiked at David’s words. “So this is a date, then?”

David went still at the words and he cursed himself for a second before David laughed again, teasing. He turned so he could see David’s face.

“It’s a perfect date, David.” He leaned in to kiss David again, softly this time, smiling into the kiss as David’s lips met his.

***

He hadn’t meant to kiss Patrick. Despite his history of failed relationships, he dignified enough to not get rejected by the same person more than once and nothing was a bigger rejection than having someone run away after you kissed them. But then that other guy had given Patrick his phone number and Patrick had said they were on a date and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning over and kissing him.

Fortunately, Patrick didn’t run away this time. But maybe it was worse that he leaned into David and tilted his head back to encourage David to kiss along his jawline. Patrick made him feel things. Stupid things that he hadn’t felt since high school. Things like ‘I like you’ and ‘you seem nice’ and ‘let’s get ice cream.’

He loved ice cream but he didn’t think he’d ever invited someone to have ice cream with him. Not unless it had been ‘come over and lick ice cream off my naked body’ which was not the same thing at all.

This whole trip had probably been a bad idea. He didn’t even know how it had happened. Patrick had offered to help with his paperwork and he’d agreed to bring him here, except it was more that he’d offered to bring him here, that he’d wanted to show him what time travel could be like.

It was fun and easy. It was always easier far away from home. Easier for Patrick to overlook the things about him that were too much, that had driven people away from him in the past. Once they returned home, Patrick would find an excuse to not see him again and things would go back to the way they’d been before. Patrick would go back to his job at Ray’s and David would simply be another contractor who need permits. Unless things went badly, in which case he’d have to drive to Elmdale when he needed a permit, resenting Patrick every time. 

It had probably been a mistake, coming here. 

The crowd filed out of the stadium and they were pulled along with everyone else. He kept his hand on Patrick’s neck to keep them from being separated and picked up discarded programs and ticket stubs with the other. 

On the street, people milled around, a wave of voices and chatter filled the air. His hand still clasped Patrick’s neck. It had been there since he’d kissed him, as though he’d glued it in place, like it belonged there. He pulled it away reluctantly, missing the feel of Patrick’s skin as soon as the connection was broken. Patrick looked up as he moved away, as though he marked the loss of it as well. 

His emotions were a confused mix of attraction and affection and want, but he nodded toward their hotel, hoping he could find his sense of equilibrium before they arrived.

***

“I’ll call down to the desk and see if they can change it.” David’s face was flushed and he glanced around the room, trying to avoid Patrick’s eyes.

Patrick held back a laugh. If it wasn’t for David’s reaction, he would have thought he’d arranged it, just to see what it was like to be in a rom com.

“David, it’s fine. That bed is big enough to sleep four people without touching, I’m sure we can manage.” Unexpected desire lanced through him followed by a deluge of images of things he and David could do in that bed. He pictured David, his body heavy above his, pressing him into the mattress, his hands seeking eagerly, his mouth against Patrick’s neck, his stomach, his lips...he swallowed roughly, it was much too soon to thinking these thoughts.

With a huff, David glared at the bed before heading to the bathroom to change. Patrick went to the window, taking a deep breath to center himself as he looked at the lights of the city stretching into the distance. He marvelled that he was not only on a different continent, but in a different time. He’d never thought this was something that he would do. He’d never sought adventure, he’d always tried to find somewhere to feel safe and secure. But as his life with Rachel became increasingly miserable and felt less and less right, it was adventure, not security, that he’d craved.

He crawled under the covers on his side of the bed and stretched a hand towards David but he was too far away and he couldn’t reach. With an awkward laugh, David moved closer, kissing him softly before rolling back to his former position.

“Goodnight, Patrick.”

“‘Night.” He laid awake for a few minutes, listening to David’s breathing even out before he too drifted off to sleep.

He was too warm. The close, stickiness of it forced him awake, his eyes opened blearily to see that it was a three minutes after five in the morning. Patrick tried to push the unwanted blankets away when he realized that the excess heat was coming from the heavy press of an arm and leg draped over him, pushing him into the mattress, the warmth of David’s body enveloping him as his chest pressed against Patrick’s back.

He quieted his first instinct to slide away, to remove himself from an inappropriate situation, to move away from the feeling of David’s skin against his. The warmth shifted from the oppressive clamminess that had woken him to something soft and cozy, he could feel it spreading inside him, undoing the knots that had been there since that first time David had kissed him in New York. He closed his eyes, relaxing against David, letting that feeling sweep him back into sleep.

When he woke for the second time, David had moved further away, but his arm still rested across Patrick’s stomach, fingers curled almost possessively as they wrapped around his side. His t-shirt had gotten rucked up in the night and David’s hand was pressing against his bare skin. Not wanting to break the connection between them, he craned his neck to see the clock beside the bed. It was just before eight o’clock. 

He felt every individual press of David’s fingertips against his skin, like five little blisters were forming from David’s touch. He fought against his thoughts of where he wanted David to put his hands. Spreadsheets, he thought firmly. Spreadsheets and tax forms and permit numbers. It would be awkward and embarrassing enough when David woke up without evidence of his arousal. He wanted to enjoy this moment, unguarded, full of possibility.

Despite his efforts to stay still, David must have sensed he was awake. He tucked his face into the pillow beside Patrick’s shoulder.

“Mmmphf...no.” David burrowed deeper, his hand tightening on Patrick’s stomach. David’s body tensed in anticipation of moving away from Patrick as he came fully awake and aware. Before David could shift to the other side of the bed, Patrick closed his hand around David’s wrist, holding him in place. The tension remained in David’s body for a minute before he slowly started to relax, turning his head to look at Patrick.

“Hi.” He smiled as David’s eyes met his, relishing the feel of David’s warm body beside him.

“Hey.” David’s cheeks took on a pinkish hue, but he didn’t pull his arm away.

“What are we doing today?”

David groaned and buried his face back into the pillow. “Coffee first.”

***

After breakfast and copious amounts of coffee in the hotel’s restaurant, David finally started to feel human again. Waking up and finding himself draped over Patrick embarrassed him, but Patrick hadn’t seemed to mind, so he tried not to dwell on it. Across the table, Patrick flipped through the Olympics souvenir guide that they’d been given last night. There was a look of delight on his face that reminded David of a little kid allowed in a candy shop for the first time. 

“I don’t understand why you’ve never done this before.” The words came out more abruptly than he intended, as though he was accusing Patrick of something.

Patrick’s eyes met his for a second before he placed the souvenir guide on the table, suddenly intent on straightening the cutlery. “I guess it never came up.”

David eyed him carefully, sure he was holding something back. “It’s just, most people are curious. Doesn’t everyone take a few trips after high school?”

Patrick was focused on making sure his refolded napkin was square to the edge of the table. He lined it up with the cutlery, everything in a precise line. “It wasn’t the responsible thing to do, okay? I was supposed to go to school, get a job, get mar…” 

“Get married?” His voice was sharp as he finished the sentence for Patrick, his heart sinking. He should have known he was a means to an end, someone to experiment with in a different time. Undoubtedly, as soon as they were home, everything would go back to the way it had been before, with Patrick wanting something steady and stable, like nothing that David could give him. 

Patrick gripped the edge of the table hard enough that his knuckles were white and the pale blue tablecloth was bunched between his fingers. “It’s not like that. Not anymore.” Patrick pushed the cutlery and the napkin away, shoving them into a messy pile. “After...after you kissed me in New York, it changed everything. I quit my job, broke up with my fiancee, moved hundreds of miles to Schitt’s Creek. I never thought I’d see you again, but knew I couldn’t live the way I had been.”

“So, it’s my fault?” He bit off the words, his body tense. Patrick needed to know that he wasn’t the steady and reliable option he was looking for. 

Patrick sighed. “David. It’s no one’s fault, there’s nothing to blame you or anyone else for. I just...I couldn’t stop thinking about you so I had to make a change.”

How could Patrick say these things? How did those words exist in the universe as though they hadn’t just torn him open? He’d never been the reason anyone had changed anything about themselves. Unless it had been the reason someone changed their number so he couldn’t call them anymore or stopped going to their favorite coffee shop because they knew he went there. It was impossible that Patrick had changed his entire life just because of David. He swallowed away the fear that rose up inside him. There was a long pause as their eyes met across the table. 

“I thought about you too.” The admission hung in the air and he wished he could take it back. Patrick would see that he was too needy, too clingy, too much and it would only hasten his departure. 

“Okay.” Instead of pushing back at David, Patrick smiled, almost to himself, before looking steadily at him. “Good.”

***

“I can’t believe you want to watch basketball!” David rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air as they walked through the Barcelona streets. It was more of a plaza than a street, lined with trees and filled with pedestrians. 

Their permit expired in eight hours and Patrick was trying to convince David that they should attend the first basketball game of the tournament. Patrick reached over and captured one of David’s hands before it could flail around his head again. He loved David like this, although he thought he could love David most ways. 

“It’s the US Dream Team, David. Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird?” He tangled their fingers together, giving David’s hand a light squeeze. David’s eyes flickered towards him, a small smile on his face as his thumb lightly rubbed the back of Patrick’s hand, sending little jolts of electricity through him. 

“I don’t know who any of those people are. Is that good?” Somehow David looked both confused and uninterested, making Patrick laugh. He tried to think of a way to explain it in terms that David would understand.

“It’s like if Adele, Lady Gaga and Cher formed a supergroup.”

David cringed and shook his head dramatically. He waved his hands in the air, pulling Patrick’s hand with him. “Okay, I know you think that would be a good thing, but don’t do that. We are definitely need to improve your knowledge of pop divas. A full educational program might be in order.” 

“Mmm, I can’t wait.” Truthfully, listening to David talk about something he was passionate about wouldn’t be a hardship. “What do you want to do, then?” 

“I thought we could see some architecture, visit the street market, eat some delicious food…” 

“You brought me to one of the biggest sporting events of 1992 and you expect me to leave without seeing any actual sports?” He wanted to see the game, but not if David would be miserable. “How about a compromise?”

“Fine.” David huffed at him, but he was smiling.

In the end, they walked along the streets lined with historic buildings to the Pavelló Olímpic de Badalona, stopping at several local vendors so David could eat his fill of street food. 

Patrick craned his neck at the Gothic architecture as they wove and dodged through the streets filled with people. The light-colored stone buildings with their ornate windows and balconies were like nothing he’d seen before. Street vendors and tourists, many of whom were wearing Olympic clothing or souvenirs, packed the streets. David’s hand clasped his. His hand was larger than Patrick’s and their palms pressed together as David’s thumb stroked along his knuckles. 

He had to get a handle on his emotions. He’d never felt so out of control and every time David touched him an avalanche of affection and happiness and pure, unfiltered need lashed through him. It was wonderful and it was distracting as hell. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to function at all if it got much worse. Letting go of David’s hand was the logical solution but he didn’t consider that to be a viable option, so instead he tried to recite the latest small business tax rules to himself with minimal success.

Eventually, they made their way to the stadium where the basketball was being held. On their way in, Patrick grabbed a couple of extra copies of the program as David rolled his eyes.

“This is a big deal, David. These players made basketball history.”

“Just so you know, this is the most time I’ve spent on a basketball court since the time my dad built me a court for my bar mitzvah and I broke my nose.” Patrick wanted to ask but he was afraid to to hear the details so he shook his head at David as they took their seats. The US team quickly moved into an early lead, a particularly spectacular blind pass from Magic Johnson to Larry Bird made the crowd roar with delight. 

David looked up from his program. “What’s going on?” 

Patrick grinned fondly and kissed David on the cheek. “We’re winning.”

“We? Did you join the team while I wasn’t looking?” 

“Yes, yes, I did. I’m scheduled to play in the rest of the tournament.” David stared at him flatly, Patrick could see him visibly struggling not to smile. Eventually, he gave up and one side of his mouth quirked up in amusement. 

On the court, Michael Jordan made a dramatic slam dunk and David let out an emphatic ‘yes’ as the crowd cheered. David turned to Patrick, his eyes were bright. “You were right. This is very fun. Do they usually win by this much?” The bag of popcorn that Patrick had bought him was nearly empty and he gestured broadly at the scoreboard. 

“No, not usually.” Patrick was pretty sure that Angola was not one of the top contenders in Olympic basketball. Watching David move from opposition to acceptance to enjoyment of the basketball game made him feel warm inside. He liked that even with all of David’s experiences, that there were still new things that the two of them could do together. He reached for David’s hand, the torrent of emotions pouring back into him as David squeezed his fingers.

They were getting ready to leave when the game ended when Patrick spotted Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson lingering by the side of the court. Seizing the opportunity, he grabbed the programs and hurried down to get them signed by the players. 

“Are those for you or to sell?” David raised an eyebrow at him.

“Maybe both.” He grinned at David and they hurried out into the bright sunshine. As they left the building, David pulled them off to one side, out of the flow of people that were moving in and out of the stadium. He drew them into the first alcove that was to the right of the main entrance, slipping his arms around Patrick’s waist and tucking his hands into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Fifteen minutes left.” He almost sounded sad and Patrick ran his hands up David’s arms before resting them lightly on his shoulders. “Any regrets?”

“Why would I have regrets?” He did have regrets. He regretted that he hadn’t done this sooner, hadn’t taken the opportunity to explore instead of feeling so responsible and so fixated on doing what people expected of him. But none of those regrets had anything to do with David, so he turned the question around.

“How about you, regrets about having a travelling companion?”

“No, no regrets.” David pulled him close and kissed him gently. He relaxed into David’s touch, whining a little when David moved away to take out his phone. With a sigh, he pulled his own phone out of his pocket and together they entered the return code that would take them home. David bent to kiss him again and he returned the kiss, letting his lips part slightly as the world went white around them.

***

**Schitt’s Creek, 2019**

The motel room was empty when David returned. A note from Alexis informed him she was leading a tour to the Middle East. He tried not to think about where and when she’d gone. At least with time travel, it would be someone else’s responsibility to find her and bring her home if she got into trouble. He tossed his bag on the bed and went to find Stevie.

As usual, Stevie sat behind the desk in the motel office, reading her book. He’d asked her once why she didn’t time travel and she’d shrugged him off. She hadn’t said, but he’d always sensed that she’d had a bad experience at some point. He set the bottle of cava he’d brought back for her on the desk. “Back so soon? Time flies when you’re not here.” He scowled at her, every trip lasted the same 24 hours here in the present.

“Did Patrick enjoy his trip?” She put the book down on the counter.

“I hope so, he made me watch basketball.” He still couldn’t believe that not only had Patrick convinced him to watch sports but that he’d enjoyed it, just a little. 

“So that’s all you did, you went to Barcelona, watched basketball and came home?” There was a glint in Stevie’s eye.

“We had a good time, okay.” He bit his lip, holding back any additional thoughts about his trip with Patrick. 

“But…?” How did she always know when he was hiding something? He fiddled with the brochures on the corner of the desk.

“But nothing.” He returned the stack of brochures to their spot on the counter, playing with his rings instead, twisting the one on his index finger.

“Okay.” Stevie picked up her book and turned to the page she’d marked.

“Fine. It’s easy to have fun when we’re far away from home, but now that we’re back…this is usually when people lose interest, now that I don’t have any money or other things to offer.” Even the money had never been enough in the past. Why would Patrick want him when he didn’t even have that to give him? Everything about Patrick suggested that he wanted the opposite of what David could offer; security, stability, someone who made pancakes in the morning and didn’t steal the covers. David was none of those things.

“You’re worried Patrick won’t be interested anymore?” 

“This is typically when most people’s interest wears off.” Maybe it didn’t matter. They’d had a good time which was more than he could say for some of his past relationships. Still, being with Patrick had made him want more. More chances to laugh together, more chances to kiss him, more chances to tease him about sports and lists and paperwork.

“Have you considered talking to him or spending time together or doing what normal people do?” He didn’t know why he’d come in here. Stevie always asked him these logical questions, forcing him to get out of his head, to look at things rationally when all he wanted was to be irrational and difficult.

“I don’t know any normal people.” He gave a half-shrug and Stevie grimaced in sympathy. 

She was right. Patrick was a normal person. How long would it be before Patrick realized that David was decidedly not normal and realized he was too much? How long could he pretend to be normal so he could spend time with Patrick? He groaned and threw himself onto the couch in Stevie’s office. 

“Relax, if Patrick wanted someone normal, he would never have gone to Barcelona with you.” 

Maybe that was true. Or more likely, Patrick had seen an opportunity to take advantage of David’s experience and he’d gone with it. It had been a one-time thing for both of them, he shouldn’t have any expectations about anything that might come next.

He needed to get a permit for his next trip anyway. Michelle had messaged him about acquiring a Charles James dress from New York in 1952. With a sigh, he heaved himself off of the couch and trudged to Ray’s. As he walked, he tried to think about what normal people did on dates. He was used to dates that involved drugs and parties and sex, but he was sure that Patrick wasn’t into that, even if there had been a party worth going to. Maybe they would watch a movie? Except he didn’t want to invite Patrick to the motel and watching a movie with Ray wasn’t really what he was going for. Hadn’t Twyla mentioned that Schitt’s Creek had a drive-in? He was pretty sure Patrick had a car. Maybe they could go to the drive-in in Patrick’s car.

Patrick was on the phone when he arrived at Ray’s, talking to someone about a business license. David stared at the photos and travel posters on the wall while he waited for him to finish. The posters were a mix of current day opportunities to places like Latvia and Moldova and time travel trips to historic events like the unveiling of Tutankhamun and the launch of the Titanic. Alexis had stuck her card to the wall between the posters, she was advertising herself as the local tour guide alternative.

“No, I can’t fill out the form until you know the name and description of the business. No, you can’t just leave them blank....Okay. How about you give that some thought and get back to me.” Patrick put down the phone and turned to David.

“Hi.” Patrick came out from behind his desk. He laughed nervously as David approached. 

“Hey.” He kissed Patrick awkwardly on the cheek. Patrick chuckled and waved him to the chair in front of his desk. It was uncomfortable, it was exactly what he’d been afraid of, that the magic of being in a different time would be lost now that they were home. Still, he’d told Stevie that he’d try to do something normal with Patrick and he’d have to explain himself to her if he didn’t at least make an attempt.

“I need a permit and do you have a car?” He rushed through the words, his insecurity about asking Patrick out getting the better of him.

Patrick tilted his head, a curious look on his face. “Um...okay and I do have a car, yes. You’re not planning to take it back in time, are you?”

“No, I thought...we could see a movie? You know, tonight? At the drive-in? Since you have a car.” Patrick gave him the amused look that David was coming to learn meant he was doing something particularly ridiculous. He crossed his arms and glared at him.

“What?” Maybe his fears had been correct. Maybe Patrick didn’t want to go out with him. This had been a bad idea. He let his eyes fall to the model double-decker bus on the edge of Patrick’s desk.

“I’d love to go to a movie with you, David. Just out of curiosity, what was your plan if I didn’t have a car?” He started to relax as Patrick made fun of him. If Patrick was teasing him, then everything was okay. 

“It’s a good thing you’ll never have to find out.”

***

To David’s disgust and Patrick’s amusement, the drive-in was playing Top Gun. 

“Don’t Tom Cruise and Kelly McGillis count as a romance?” They’d had a lengthy conversation in Barcelona about David’s opinions about what made a perfect romantic comedy. Evidently, Top Gun was not on the list.

“That’s not a romance, it’s more like an inappropriate work relationship.”

Patrick laughed and reached over for David’s hand. David tangled their hands together, running the tips of his fingers along Patrick’s knuckles. He felt every brush of David’s skin as David’s larger hand enveloped his own, electrifying the nerve endings in his hand. Being in the enclosed space of the car amplified the piercing need he felt whenever David touched him. Any other emotions were lost to the rush of desire. He shifted in his seat, desperate to feel David’s hands, his mouth.

Beside him, David turned away from the screen, moving in his seat so he was half facing him, a smile on his face. Before he could say anything, David leaned towards him, his free hand cupping the back of his head. Patrick could feel David’s rings, the silver cool on the side of his neck before David’s lips met his. 

It shouldn’t be like this. It wasn’t their first kiss, but maybe because it was here, in the present, it felt more real than their previous kisses. He made a small moaning noise as David deepened the kiss. He’d never moaned when someone had kissed him before but he didn’t have time to over analyze it before David’s lips left his, moving to press and tease the spot beneath his ear. With a groan, he tipped his head back on the headrest, giving David easier access. Instead of kissing him, David ran his thumb gently along his jaw, his entire body was on fire.

“Fuck, David.”

David’s mouth had returned to his ear. “If you want.”

“I…” It was hard to think about what he wanted. He swallowed roughly. “Not in this car, David.”

“In someone else’s car, then?”

David’s cheekiness startled a laugh out of him. “Not in anyone’s car.”

On screen, Kelly McGillis chastised Tom Cruise for his reckless flying maneuvers. David was right, he thought distractedly, that relationship was definitely not a romance. He lost the thought immediately when David kissed him again.

He’d never been so adrift. He’d always been in control before, going through the motions, ensuring it all went to plan. But this was like someone had cut the lines that tethered him to the ground, as though David had become his only anchor. 

He kissed David back, harder this time, trying to pull him closer. The car was a terrible place to be doing this, everything was in the way. He fumbled with the centre console, wanting more of David. With an irritated groan, David reached down and released the seat, pushing it back as far as he could.

“Come here.” David tugged on the belt loops of Patrick’s jeans pulling him down on top of him. He was grateful for the dark, the distraction of the movie should keep the attention of the other movie watchers away from them. In the background, Kenny Loggins sang about the Danger Zone. Life imitates art, he thought recklessly before David slipped his fingers beneath the edge of his sweater. 

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah. Yes.” There still wasn’t enough room. His knee was jammed awkwardly into the passenger door. Not for the first time since he’d met David, he wanted to be back in high school where two smaller and more flexible teenage boys might have been better able to manage in the confined space. 

He kissed David wildly. It was inelegant; he was too turned on to be precise as he dragged his mouth across David’s. David’s hand grabbed his ass, pulling him closer, grinding against him. In the corner of his mind he recognized that David was holding back, letting him lead. He was grateful for his thoughtfulness; he wasn’t ready to let his lack of experience go head to head with David’s expertise. 

David’s hands were at the button of his jeans. 

“Can I?” The words were indistinct against his mouth, but he nodded.

“Yeah.” The tight denim was uncomfortable against the hardness of his cock. David undid the button and a ripple of desire flashed through him. 

“I’m not...I’m not gonna last. When you touch me.” He panted, needing David to touch him, embarrassed about what would happen when he did.

David brought a hand up to hold the back of his neck, to steady him in place. “Take what you need.” His free hand stroked Patrick, once, twice before he came. 

He rested his forehead against David’s shoulder. He was still panting, his cheeks flushed when he thought about how quickly everything had happened, David’s hand teased the short hair at the back of his head, his fingernails scratching gently. 

“God, sorry.” He tried to sit up, to move off of David without looking at him. Instead, David’s hand held him in place and he kissed him softly. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for. Watching you get off is not a bad time for me.”

“Let me…” He reached to touch David only to see him shake his head. David kissed him again, warm and soothing.

“Like I said, this is not a bad time for me.”

***

David opened the door to his room as Patrick drove away from the motel. It was dark, Alexis wouldn’t return until tomorrow. He could still hear Patrick panting in his ear, could feel his body pressed heavily against his in the confined space of the car. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t done dozens if not hundreds of times before and yet if felt new. Maybe it was Patrick’s inexperience or maybe it was something softer; the warm, fragile feeling he got when he thought about Patrick. 

He shied away from the thought, not wanting to examine it too closely. As he flipped on the light, his phone buzzed with a text. Assuming it was Patrick, he smiled and pulled it out of his pocket. Instead of Patrick’s now familiar number, a number he’d never wanted to see again popped up on the screen.

His stomach twisted into knots, he opened the message from Sebastien.

**Sebastien:** Sign your Paris contract over to me, or I’ll tell your new boyfriend all about your past.  
**Sebastien:** And I’m going to start with this.

Attached was one of the photos that Sebastien had taken of David without his consent. He was naked, tied to the white metal frame of Sebastien’s headboard, his pupils fully dilated from whatever drugs they had done that day, head rolled loosely back against the pillow. He looked like the warning poster for a high school life skills class.

Rage warred with nausea inside him before settling into a profound sense of helplessness. He definitely didn’t want Patrick to find out about his past this way and certainly not from Sebastien. Having Sebastien interpret his life through a lens of artistic revenge porn would surely drive Patrick away. He slumped onto the edge of the bed, driving his fingernails into his palms. He would have to give Sebastien what he wanted. 

There was only one problem. He didn’t have a Paris contract.


	3. New York 1952 & 2013

**New York, 1952**

Normally, being able to attend New York Fashion Week was one of the perks of the time travel contracts he took from Michelle. She was a bitch who delighted in the misfortune that forced him to work for her, but she had a keen eye for fashion and she wanted the best. This time he couldn’t concentrate, his thoughts kept sliding between Patrick and Sebastien and the Paris contract that didn’t exist.

He’d texted Patrick to tell him he was leaving, torn between not wanting to talk to him after he’d received Sebastien’s message and not wanting to leave him hanging after their date the night before. How had Sebastien known that David would care what Patrick thought of him? When Patrick had dropped his head to David’s shoulder last night, both of them panting from the physical and emotional release, he’d thought that he might never want anyone else. 

Fucking Sebastien. He should talk to Patrick about his past, but he wasn’t ready to talk about his history with Sebastien, maybe at some later date they could end there, building up to it slowly so it wouldn’t sound so bad, when it wouldn’t feel like it was his fault for not leaving sooner, for letting Sebastien do whatever he wanted, for selling himself for the drugs and the sex and the attention.

He’d missed half of the afternoon’s runway show already, it had been a blur of full-skirted dresses and floral patterns. He couldn’t concentrate. Thankfully, he’d already acquired the dress that Michelle had requested. Frustrated with himself, he pushed back his chair and headed for the exit, stopping short at the sight of the man who leaned casually beside the doors.

“What are you doing here?” He smiled broadly when he saw Patrick standing in front of him. 

Patrick shrugged as David kissed him hello, falling in beside him as they left the building. “I thought you could teach me about fashion.”

“Really?” He didn’t even try to keep the skepticism out of his voice.

Patrick laughed. “No. I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Seems unethical to be using confidential time travel permit information for your own benefit.” It suddenly reminded him of his conversation with Sebastien in London, when he’d said that Patrick had told him where David was. Fear rippled through his stomach but Patrick appeared unfazed.

“Since I registered it, my name’s on the permit too, so it’s hardly confidential to me. You know I’d never share information with anyone else but you.” 

Was Patrick so good a liar that he could pull off this conversation with a straight face? David had probably misunderstood Sebastien. Or even more likely, Sebastien had manipulated someone into finding out the information for him. Still, a tiny sliver of doubt remained. He chased it away by pressing a kiss to Patrick’s cheek. “Now that you’re here, how do you want to spend the afternoon?”

“I was thinking a baseball game or…” Patrick bumped his shoulder against David’s and he could tell Patrick was joking. Mostly. Probably.

“No. Nope. You made me watch sports the last time.” Patrick’s fingers slid between his. He’d never held hands with anyone much before Patrick, that sort of casual intimacy wasn’t something that people in his previous relationships had been interested in. Every time Patrick took his hand it filled him with wonder and astonishment that there was someone in the world who wanted to hold his hand.

“How about the Empire State Building?” Of course Patrick would suggest such an obvious tourist attraction. He made a face. Being so high in the air made his heart race but he pushed his fears away. The Empire State Building was an enormous building, surely it wouldn’t be so bad, not at all like parasailing in the Seychelles.

“You’re telling me you’ve seen Sleepless in Seattle fifteen times, but you’ve never been to the top of the Empire State Building?” 

“Fine.” Patrick was so enthusiastic that he didn’t want to tell him about his fear of heights. He’d stay well back from the edge when they got to the top. 

They shared the elevator with a group of young women, the floral skirts of their full-skirted dresses taking up more space than they should have, forcing the two of them against the back wall. He couldn’t complain as he felt Patrick press against him. If it hadn’t been for the sharp eyes of the elevator attendant, he would have pulled him even closer, despite the full elevator.

When they got off the elevator, he lingered by the wall, well back from the edge of the platform. “You go look, I’ll stay here.”

“Are you okay?” Patrick’s hand gripped David’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “You should have said something.” Patrick frowned at him, his forehead creased.

“I’ll be fine as long as I stay back here. Go.” He leaned back against the wall, hoping that Patrick wouldn’t take too long to look at the city. People crowded the viewing platform, both the men and women holding down their hats because of the wind. If he closed his eyes he could imagine he was standing on a busy street corner instead of on a platform more than a thousand feet in the air. 

Everything with Patrick felt new. It wasn’t just that Patrick insisted on going to places like this that he’d never been to, he’d never felt so comfortable before. Usually it was the other way around but he wondered if Patrick might be too much for him. Could he withstand this much emotion on a daily basis? His thoughts were interrupted by a voice in his ear.

“David.”

He opened his eyes to find a tall well-built man looming over him. “Jake.” He was tired of running into his exes when he went back in time. “What are you doing here?” Patrick’s blue shirt was just visible as he peered over the edge of the observation platform. Jake followed his gaze before boxing him in against the wall, hands on either side of David’s head.

“I came to bring a message.” How had he never noticed how large Jake was? He wanted to step back but there was nowhere to go. “Sebastien knows when you are and he wants that contract.” Jake nodded towards Patrick, who was looking through the telescope. “It would be a shame if he found out who you really are. The things you’ve done. The people you’ve done.”

With that, Jake moved away, losing himself in the crowd. On the observation deck, Patrick made his way through the crowd back towards him.

“Who was that?” He could hear the concern in Patrick’s voice and tried to force his face into a more neutral expression; he wasn’t sure if he’d succeeded.

“Just an old friend.” His thoughts were racing. Jake and Sebastien were obviously working together; how did they even know each other? Why was Sebastien so fixated on this Paris contract that David didn’t even have?

“Huh. He didn’t look very friendly.” Patrick raised an eyebrow at him, as though he knew that David wasn’t telling him the entire truth. 

“We didn’t part on good terms.” He forced a smile. He definitely didn’t want to talk about Jake, or Sebastien, with Patrick right now. “Where do you want to go now?”

“How about Central Park?” 

He grinned at Patrick. Central Park was just as much of a tourist trap as the Empire State Building but he’d always loved it. When he lived in New York, he’d come to the Park to sit by himself, to get away from the sometimes exhausting pretension of his gallery and the life he led. They walked along the paths around the lake at the south end of the park. As though he could read his thoughts, Patrick took his hand, brushing his thumb across David’s knuckles.

“Did you come here a lot? Before?”

“Sometimes. When I needed to go somewhere where no one would think to look for me. Most of the people I knew thought Central Park was a cliche, so they hated to come here.” He was glad that no one he knew had liked to come here. It had been his escape, a way to step outside his life, to simply be alone for an hour or two.

“But?”

“But it’s peaceful. Even with all the people.” Patrick smiled at him softly. “What?” Patrick’s eyes crinkled at the edges, his face amused and knowing, like he knew a secret about David that no one else did. It scared him to think he might have let Patrick see who he was. The feeling of too much grew even stronger.

“Nothing.” Patrick’s smile grew even bigger. “I’m glad I get to share it with you.”

They bought ice cream from a cart and sat on a bench to eat it before it melted. David thought about how he’d wanted to lick ice cream from Patrick’s skin before he really knew him. Patrick might let him do that now, if he asked. But this was even better, sitting in the sun together. Was this what people who liked each other did together? It was nice.

**New York, 2013**

The envelope was sitting on Patrick’s desk in the morning. There was no stamp and no return address, just a plain white envelope with his name and address printed on the front.

“Ray, did you see where this came from?” He picked it up and showed it to Ray, flipping it over to see if there was anything on the back, but it was blank.

“Oh, yes, it was in with the mail. The postal service must be getting very sloppy if they’re delivering letters without stamps these days.”

“Mmm hmm.” He tore open the envelope, the only thing inside was a square piece of paper with a few lines of writing.

Permit #: 2013-897470-2019  
Date: July 14, 2013, 11:00 pm  
Penthouse, Baccarat Hotel, New York  
Target: photos and video

He pulled up the contract number on the computer but there was no additional information. Either the permit form had been filled in incorrectly or it had been altered. He considered the message. It was written in all caps but the handwriting didn’t look familiar; he flipped over the envelope and shook it over his desk in case he’d missed anything. It was empty. 

The only person he could think who might have dropped it off was David, but he didn’t know his handwriting well enough to know for sure. Had David planned a trip in exchange for Patrick surprising him in 1952? He almost texted him but if David had wanted to tell him about it, he would have said something instead of sending an anonymous note in the mail. He smiled to himself, a thrill going through him as he thought about what David might have planned.

He googled the hotel, the crystal chandeliers and white leather club chairs were definitely a few steps up from anywhere he’d been in a while, if ever. It was the kind of place that David would have enjoyed in his old life.

“Ray?” 

“Patrick.” His boss appeared from the other room of the office. As always, his face was open and questioning, eager to please.

“I’m going to take this time travel contract, I won’t be in tomorrow.” Regardless of who had sent the information, he was curious. Either David had sent the note or it had been someone else, in which case he wanted to know why someone wanted him to go to New York.

“Okay. Tell David I said hello!”

“Yeah.” Patrick read the note again. If only there was a way to be sure it was from David.

He finished out the day, catching up on the backlog of permit reports that Ray had received but not entered into the system. After a quick meal and a change of clothes he was ready to go. He put the travel code into his phone app, bracing himself as the world went white.

He found himself standing on the top floor of a downtown New York building. Floor to ceiling windows shone out over the city at night, lights stretched into the distance, twinkling in the darkness. Everything in the room was made from leather or chrome or crystal and huge pillars framed the windows, reaching for the thirty foot ceilings. People filled the room. The lights were dim and at one end of the enormous room he could see a DJ, the pulsating beat of the music mostly covering the sound of the conversation and chatter. It overwhelmed him, beyond anything that he had been expecting. 

He wasn’t sure how much of the noise and people he could take. He scanned the crowd, hoping to see David, but without success. With a sigh, he began to work his way through the party-goers, side-stepping groups and couples along the way. He passed a server carrying a tray of drinks and grabbed a glass of wine. On the other side of the room, Katy Perry danced against the windows. The entire room was filled with celebrities he was glad he couldn’t recognize, if he had he would have been even more intimidated to be here.

He stopped at the base of the penthouse’s staircase; he was trying to decide if he’d be able to get a better view to find David when someone called his name.

“Patrick, right?”

He turned to see the guy he’d talked to at the Olympic opening ceremonies in Barcelona. Kirk? Kyle? Ken, that was his name. Had Ken sent him the permit information? He didn’t want to be here with Ken. He searched for David.

“Ken. Nice to see you.”

“You must have a good contract to get into a place like this.” It didn’t sound like Ken had sent him the permit information. Why was he always going on about Patrick’s contracts? Was he terrible at small talk? Or was he relieved to find another time traveller? Either way, it was annoying and it was interfering with his ability to find David.

“It’s nothing special.” He scanned the room again, hoping to see the familiar dark hair and black-and-white clothing.

“Let me get you a drink.” Ken searched for one of the servers who were moving through the crowd.

“I’ve got one, thanks.” He hadn’t taken more than a sip of the wine he’d grabbed earlier and he was suddenly grateful for his full glass.

“Having you been doing this long?” Ken had to yell over the music so that Patrick could hear him. His desire to continue to stand here and talk to Ken decreased even more. He wanted Ken to go away, but he didn’t want to be rude. 

“No, only a few times.” 

“It’s funny that we keep running into each other. Maybe we should team up!” Ken laughed as he reached out to touch Patrick’s arm.

“Sorry, I don’t think so.” He tried to keep an eye on the shifting mass of people, hoping to spot David.

“Well, maybe you can help me out at least. I want to get a selfie to show my friends back home that I was partying with New York’s best and brightest.” Ken held up his phone and leaned towards Patrick, putting an arm around his shoulder.

“Sure, man, whatever.” Hopefully, this would be enough for him to shake Ken and continue his search of the penthouse. The flash blinded him for a second and Ken clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Thanks Patrick, great to see you again.” He shook his head as Ken disappeared into the crowd. 

He scanned the room again. He was about to try a different area of the penthouse when he finally spotted David out of the corner of his eye. He paused. Something wasn’t right. This wasn’t the David he knew. This David was too thin, he was at least thirty pounds skinnier, his face was gaunt and worn. He wore black and white, as Patrick expected, but a designer button-up shirt that Patrick had never seen before instead of his usual sweaters. 

This had to be a past version of David, the David who spent his days at parties like this one, with people with money and status. People who were the opposite of Patrick. Had David sent him here to prove a point about the two of them? Did he want to say that he and Patrick couldn’t work together? 

He should turn and leave, but he couldn’t help himself from being drawn towards David. He worked his way through the crowd towards where David stood near the windows. David was with a tall blond woman who wore a short sparkly dress and a dark-haired man, his designer shirt tight across his shoulders. 

He was close enough now to tell that David was drunk or high or both. His laugh was too loud and brittle and he swayed between the couple. Patrick could see the light flashing off of the rings on his right hand, it made his heart tighten, just a little. He drained the glass of wine in a single swallow, reaching out blindly to set it on a nearby cocktail table.

This David didn’t owe him anything. His David, if he could even call him that, was in the future, a very different person from the one standing in front of him. Nonetheless, it made him sad and angry to see this drunken, damaged person standing before him. He wanted to take this David by the hand, lead him home, tuck him into bed with a glass of water and a kiss on the forehead. He didn’t want to leave him here among these people who didn’t care about him. 

The woman pulled David towards her, kissing him messily. David leaned into her, neither of them moving as the man who was with them moved closer, stroking a possessive hand down David’s back before gripping David’s ass firmly. He slid open two buttons on David’s shirt and began to suck a mark onto the edge of David’s neck, making David’s head tilt back and his eyes flutter closed.

Patrick turned away, feeling sick. It felt wrong to to intrude on David’s past this way. He didn’t want to see where this went. He pushed his way to the edge of the crowd on the other side of the room from where he’d seen David and pulled out his phone. More than ready to go home, he activated the app on his phone and returned to 2019.

He laid in bed awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of what had happened. He didn’t care about David’s past. His own past involved a long-term relationship with a woman he’d never been attracted to so he didn’t think he could judge anyone else. Besides, he was falling in love with the David he knew now, not the one he’d seen from six years ago. Who he’d been then was irrelevant. 

Seeing David then had made one thing clear. He loved David. Maybe he had from the beginning. But seeing him, so broken and alone, hadn’t made him want to run away. Quite the opposite, he’d wanted to throw himself between David and everything that stood to hurt him, to defend him against the demons that threatened to eat him alive.

Not knowing who had sent him to 2013 kept him awake. Had David taken out the permit to sabotage their new relationship? Or was he trying to show Patrick who he was to see if he could drive him away?

The possibility that someone else had sent him the contract information worried him even more. If that was the case, someone wanted to hurt him or David. He briefly considered Rachel, before dismissing the idea. She didn’t know where he was, let alone that he was involved with David. If someone else had manipulated him, they were probably from David’s past rather than his own.

That someone wanted to hurt David, to hurt him, made him more determined to protect what they had. Still, he didn’t know how to talk to David about what had happened. David would probably react badly if he knew that Patrick had seen him in the past. Wanting to talk to him, he pulled out his phone and sent a message, hoping David was still awake.

**Patrick:** I missed you today.

David didn’t respond right away and Patrick thought he might be asleep. Finally, his phone buzzed against his stomach.

**David:** I missed you too.

**Patrick:** Can I see you tomorrow?  
**Patrick:** I need you to sign your report.

He felt pathetic as soon as he pressed send. Here he was, having a late night text conversation with a guy he was attracted to and he was talking about paperwork. He could almost hear David laughing at him.

**Patrick:** My sexting game is very strong.  
**Patrick:** You may not have known that about me.

There was still no response from David, he was probably laughing too hard to reply. Finally his phone buzzed with a response.

**David:** You don’t know what makes you sexy.

He frowned at the phone, not sure how to respond. 

**Patrick:** Okay?

**David:** People don’t do things for me.

He’d always thought texting was the least intimate means of communication possible but with six words David had made him feel warm in a way that no one ever had.

**Patrick:** Anything you need.  
**Patrick:** Goodnight, David.

**David:** Goodnight. See you tomorrow. 

**Schitt’s Creek, 2019**

David woke up to another message from Sebastien. His stomach clenched. He would have to talk to Patrick before Sebastien did, but he didn’t want to. He opened the text. There was a photo and a question.

**Sebastien:** Do you think he saw you?

He tapped on the photo; it was a selfie taken at a party. In the foreground, Patrick was with another man who was vaguely familiar. Was that the guy who had given Patrick his phone number in Barcelona? In the background, helpfully circled, presumably by Sebastien, he could see himself, his body fully intertwined with a man and a woman. 

He recognized the location as the penthouse at the Baccarat Hotel; he had partied there regularly, but he didn’t recognize either of the two people he was with. He must have been high to not have even a vague recollection of who they were. He grimaced, replying to Sebastien.

**David:** Leave me alone.

Sebastien’s reply came right away.

**Sebastien:** I’m just getting started. I want that contract.

If only he’d never known Sebastien, had never been drawn into his orbit. The first time he’d come into David’s New York gallery he’d sounded so worldly, like he had a deeper understanding that David had craved. And when he’d fastened his gaze on David, it had felt like he was the only one in the room. At first, at least. Eventually his gaze felt more like the stare of a hungry viper than anything else.

He opened the photo again, looking at Patrick, his thoughts racing. Why was Patrick there? What had made him take a contract that would take him back to David’s past? Was he looking for an excuse to end things? And why was he with that guy he’d met in Barcelona? Had Patrick had kept his number and called him? Had he gone on a trip with this other guy instead of David? Maybe this was another open relationship, another fling or adventure until Patrick scratched whatever itch he had and returned to this other guy. For the briefest moment, he’d thought Patrick was different. All of the defenses that Patrick had eroded were rebuilt in a single moment, squeezing his heart like a vise.

He couldn’t breathe, it felt like his lungs were shrinking. He should have known that lies defined his moments with Patrick, that it was too good to be true, just like all of his other relationships. He sank back down onto his bed, wrapping his arms around his knees. He tucked his face into the soft cradle of his arms, not caring if a few tears stained the designer sweater. His phone buzzed with another text, this time from Patrick.

**Patrick:** Can I buy you lunch?

Rage overtook his self-pity and anxiety. How dare Patrick be so cool about lying to him? How could he make it seem so easy to pretend that there was something real between them? He snarled at his phone and sent a reply.

**David:** 12:00

He got to the cafe a few minutes early, but Patrick was already waiting for him. Seeing him there, smiling at him, made him even angrier and he hurled himself into the booth, scowling at Patrick, who tilted his head curiously.

“You okay?”

“Not really, no.” 

Patrick reached for his hand, but he knocked it away. He shouldn’t have come here. It hurt too much to see Patrick, he should have stopped caring, he should have never responded to his invitation for lunch, he should have run away. But his desire to punish himself was too strong even as a little part of him couldn’t quite believe that Patrick was like all the others.

“How can you sit there and pretend that you care? Is it fun for you to do that?”

“What?” Patrick pulled his hand back slowly, hurt replacing the curiosity that had been on his face before. “What are you talking about?”

He thought about how Sebastien had claimed that Patrick had told him about his trip to London. His expression hardened and he crossed his arms protectively.

“You’ve been spying on me for Sebastien this entire time, haven’t you?” He had almost trusted Patrick. Trusted that Patrick wouldn’t hurt him, that he liked him, that he was different from all the others. The betrayal was bitter, like ashes in the back of his throat.

“Who’s Sebastien?” Confusion washed across Patrick’s face, etching lines in his forehead.

He never would have thought Patrick would be such a good liar. His open face showed emotion so easily and honestly that David wouldn’t have thought he had such capacity for deceit. He should have known that Patrick was too good to be true. He pulled out his phone and opened the photo that Sebastien had sent him, sliding his phone across the table to Patrick. In his anger, he nearly threw it off the edge of the table, but Patrick caught it before it could fall on the floor.

“Why were you there?” There was no way back from this, but he needed Patrick to tell him the truth, that he was working for Sebastien, that he was dating Ken; anything was better than more lies.

Patrick’s face went white and he pressed his lips together. His jaw clenched and he stared at the photo. “I don’t know. I don’t know why I was there.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You can’t travel through time without a reason. Why did you go?” His voice shook as the anguish overtook his anger. Patrick couldn’t even be bothered to make up a story about why he had gone back in time to spy on him. Patrick handed back his phone and clenched his fingers together.

“David…”

“Never mind. Tell Ray I’ll get my permits in Elmdale from now on.”

He slid out of the booth and left the cafe, hurrying so that no one would see the tears that were falling.

***

He ran into Stevie outside of his room. Before he could say anything, she took one look at his face and pulled him into the motel office.

“Are you okay?” She sat beside him on the ugly couch and turned sideways so she could look at him. Irrelevantly, he wondered whether the plaid upholstery or her plaid shirts had come first. The couch, he decided. It had a definite 1970s vibe to it.

“No. Patrick...turns out he’s the same as all the others.” He wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about it, even with Stevie. His conversation with Patrick rang in his ears, the look on Patrick’s face when David had shown him the photo had been a mixture of shock and anger. 

“That doesn’t sound like Patrick.”

“Well, it is.” He told Stevie the whole story, about how Patrick went to his past, probably to spy on him. How he had met up with someone else while he was there. He dropped his head onto the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling. Decades of water leaks stained the off-white ceiling tiles. Not wanting to say anything else, he pulled up the photo on his phone and handed it to her.

“Where did you get this photo again?”

“Sebastien sent it to me.”

“Why would you trust anything that Sebastien sent you? He’s the most manipulative person I’ve ever seen.”

He shook his head at her, looking away. Maybe Patrick had a reason for going to 2013, maybe there was something else going on, but he couldn’t trust him, not anymore.

“Also, how would Patrick know to go to that hotel, on that night? How would he know that you would be there?”

“I assume Sebastien told him.” Finding out that Patrick was working with Sebastien was even worse than knowing he’d gone back in time to see what David used to be like.

“Did you ask him why he went?” Stevie’s voice was insistent, as though she couldn’t quite believe that Patrick had been lying to them all this time.

“He said he didn’t know.” He could still see the hurt, confused look on Patrick’s face from when they’d talked. Even knowing it was fake, it hurt to think of it.

“So your theory is that Patrick is a mastermind of deceit, but for the most obvious question you could ask, he didn’t have an answer?”

He stared at her. Maybe, just maybe, something else was going on. A small glimmer of hope emerged, like a tiny ray of light in his heart. Still, talking to Patrick was terrifying after all the horrible words he’d said at the cafe. 

“Don’t you think you should let him explain? Just in case?”

***

Patrick knocked on the motel room door. He wanted to pound on it, to shout for David to open the door, but he didn’t want to risk waking the other guests, or even worse, David’s parents.

“David. Open the door and talk to me.” He rested his forehead against the door for a moment. He didn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t get David to talk to him. He couldn’t think about the possibility that this might be how their relationship ended. He knocked on the door again. David’s accusations still confused him but he knew one thing, something about his trip to 2013 had hurt and infuriated David.

“Go away.” The voice sounded muffled, as though David had his face in his pillow. At least David was speaking to him, not simply ignoring him until he left.

“David. I’ll stay out here all night if I have to.” He grabbed one of the plastic chairs that was nearby and dragged it towards David’s door. The metal feet scraped on the concrete as he pulled it along. He didn’t have time to sit down before the door opened and David stood in front of him, arms crossed, blocking the doorway. David’s face was blank. He’d never seen him look so empty inside, he wanted to reach out and stroke away his pain. He clenched his fists to keep them at his sides.

“Do you want to do this out here?” 

“Fine.” David stepped aside, his face unhappy as he followed Patrick into the room. Now that he was here, standing in front of David, he didn’t know where to start. Something was going on that he didn’t understand. How had David ended up with that photo of him and Ken? And who had sent him the permit details? And who the hell was Sebastien? He thrust the note he’d received in the mail at David.

“Someone sent me this. I thought it was you. I thought you had planned a surprise trip.” His voice cracked on the last word and his eyes left David for a second. It was unbearable to think this might be all the time he got with David, that he might never get to kiss him or time travel together again, or even go to another drive-in movie.

“So now you know.” David still stood by the door, as if he couldn’t bear to come any closer. “Now you’ve seen who I really am.”

“David...Yeah, I saw you there. I saw you and you looked...you looked so lost. But you know what? If you’d gone back to see me in 2013, you’d have seen the same look on my face, because I didn’t find what I was missing until I met you. This is what I’ve been looking for my whole life. You’re what I’ve been looking for.”

David stared at the ground. Like the version of himself that Patrick had seen in 2013, his face was closed off and defensive. He’d changed so much, Patrick thought. So much and so little. He wanted to chase the blank look from David’s face, to wipe it away with his fingertips but he didn’t dare, not while David stood in front of him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“Do you know the worst of it? I don’t even remember. I don’t remember those people, I don’t remember their names, I don’t remember what we did. Which was pretty much par for the course for me back then.” David spoke the words into the floor.

“David…” His heart might break from the weight of it.

“Why were you with that guy from Barcelona? Did you call him?” David sat on the end of his bed, hugging his arms across his chest as though he needed the feel someone else’s hands, but that he didn’t trust Patrick to touch him.

“Ken? I wasn’t with him. He came out of nowhere and wanted a photo. What I want to know is why he’d send it to you?” He didn’t understand how Ken could have known to send that photo to David or how he’d even know who David was. There was something going on that he didn’t understand. 

David took a deep breath and sighed. “He didn’t send it to me. Sebastien sent it to me.”

“Who’s Sebastien?” It hadn’t taken him long to realize that most of the people from David’s past were terrible people who had treated him badly. That one of them was out for revenge made a twisted kind of sense.

David shrugged, his face was still closed and strained, but at least he met Patrick’s eyes when he spoke. “I think I need to tell you about the person I was before we met.”


	4. Schitt's Creek, 2019

**Schitt’s Creek, 2019**

Patrick kicked off his shoes and sank down on David’s bed. David’s eyes were red and miserable but some of the tension left him when Patrick held out his hand for David to take. There wasn’t a lot of room on the bed, but Patrick had learned that David needed to touch him when they were talking about something important. And this way, they could feel connected without having to be eye to eye, which might be better for both of them. He laid on his back with David snuggled beside him.

He cupped the back of David’s neck and looked him in the eye. “You don’t have to tell me everything, I’m not writing a book. Just tell me what you want me to know.”

David nodded reluctantly and tucked his head into Patrick’s shoulder, draping an arm over his chest and tangling their legs together. Patrick shifted a bit until they were both comfortable.

“Okay, how about we start with something easy? First kiss?”

David laughed under his breath. Hearing the laugh eased the tension inside Patrick, just a little. “Carly Thompsen, when I was seven. She kissed me and then refused to talk to me for the rest of the school year. Which, in retrospect, is very on brand for me. How about you?”

“Tommy Daniels, second grade.” He hadn’t thought about that in years. Tommy had had red hair and freckles and he’d lived across the street. He’d kissed Patrick in his treehouse when Patrick had agreed to give him his newest Spiderman comic.

“Wait.” David lifted his head to look at him. “Your first kiss was with a boy?”

“Shut up. I was six, I didn’t think it meant anything!” He pushed playfully at David’s shoulder. He didn’t want to let his thoughts linger on what might have happened if he’d paid more attention to his six-year old self. “First real kiss? Mine was Janice Pedersen at the junior high dance. She stuck her tongue in my mouth and I didn’t like it.”

“You don’t seem to mind now.” He could feel David smirking at him and he laughed in return. “Mine was Matthew Morrisey at one of my parent’s parties. It was a good kiss but then his parents sent him to boarding school in France.”

“First time you had sex.” David had relaxed for the first few questions, but this time he flinched against Patrick’s chest. He rubbed David’s arm and waited apprehensively for him to answer.

“My high school English teacher, Mr. Kennedy.” Patrick stopped breathing for a second, the revelation was too much. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” He ran his fingers along the back of David’s neck. It was sad and awful and he had a feeling it was about to get worse. 

“Are we doing ‘sweetheart?’” David sounded amused and Patrick could feel him smiling against his chest.

“We are tonight. I’ll see how I feel about it in the morning.” The pet name wasn’t enough. It could never be enough to heal David’s scars. And here he was, forcing them open, one by one.

“What about your first time?” He knew David was asking partly because he didn’t want to talk about himself anymore. Patrick didn’t want to share his past either, but he’d agreed.

“Rachel.” He sighed. “Rachel was my first time for a lot of things. When you spend ten years of your life with someone, you cover a lot of ground.” It hadn’t been so long ago that he’d thought he would spend the rest of his life with Rachel. Now, here he was, with David in his arms and nothing he’d ever imagined was the same as it had been.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t know what that’s like.” David’s body had gone still and he was worrying at one of his fingernails. He rubbed his hand up David’s back.

“Ten years doesn’t mean that it was working. It just means I was too stubborn to see what was right in front of me.”

David nodded against his chest, the fingers of his right hand, the one with the rings on it, were playing with the edge of Patrick’s sleeve. He squeezed David’s shoulder before asking the next question.

“First time you said ‘I love you?’” The tension in David’s body increased as the questions got harder. His hand stopped moving, clenched around the fabric of Patrick’s shirt.

“Hmm. Never. Just to my parents twice and once to Mariah Carey.” The crack in his heart grew wider. He pressed a kiss to David’s forehead. The urge to tell David he loved him expanded inside him, threatening to spill out, but the timing wasn’t right and it would be a burden amid everything else they were talking about.

“Yours? Rachel?”

“Yeah.” He tried to put his relationship with Rachel into coherent words when David asked in a small voice. “Do you still love her?”

His feelings for Rachel were complicated. He loved her but he wasn’t attracted to her. They’d lived together, but he’d never shared who he really was. “Part of me will always love her. She was my best friend for a long time. But I’m not in love with her. I don’t know if I ever was.”

He took a breath; he knew the questions were about to get even harder. “Biggest mistake?”

David’s body stilled against his. He tightened his arm around David’s shoulder. “Sebastien fucking Raine. He set you up...set us up in New York. He sent me that photo. I was so stupid, I thought I deserved how he treated me. He’d make me feel special, but he was just using me. He’d get me high and then he’d take these awful photos and when I told him to destroy them, he’d just laugh and say they were art.” 

David was shaking and Patrick held him tighter, his lips pressed against the top of David’s head. He wanted to smash something. He wanted to punch Sebastien Raine, to break him the way that he’d broken David.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Hearing David blame himself was like being cut by a knife, sharp and smooth as he said the words with the stinging pain following behind.

David’s sob reverberated through his chest and Patrick reached his free hand up to cup David’s face, wiping away the tears. 

“I don’t care. You know that, right? I don’t care about any of it. I only care who you are now that you’re with me.” 

Before he could say anything else, David was kissing him, fiercely, desperately, his larger body pressing Patrick into the mattress. He let David take what he needed, matching him, but not pushing, folding David into his arms when he finally tucked his head back into his shoulder with a small whimper. He stroked up and down his back until David relaxed a little.

He scratched his fingernails at the back of David’s neck, there was one more question he wanted to ask.

“Thing you haven’t done that you wished you had?”

David was silent for a long time. David’s breath was hot against his neck. When he spoke, it was so quiet that if his mouth hadn’t been next to Patrick’s ear; he wasn’t sure he could have heard the words.

“Have someone fall in love with me.”

He closed his eyes against David’s answer. David was determined to rip his heart out. Even David’s anger at the cafe earlier that day didn’t hurt as much as this did. This time he was the one who reached to kiss David, his hand cupping David’s cheek as their lips met.

***

David couldn’t talk about it anymore. He hadn’t told Patrick everything; he hadn’t told him about Sebastien’s threats or scratched the surface of all the sex and parties and drugs he’d done in his life. But he couldn’t talk about it anymore. It was like he had taken a knife to his defenses, slicing them into ribbons so that Patrick could see inside him. When Patrick finally kissed him, he whimpered from relief at the idea that he wouldn’t have to share those parts of himself anymore.

Patrick kissed him the same way he did so many things, seriously, like he was determined to get top marks in the class. David wanted to tell him that no one else compared, that he’d had people kiss him in all kinds of ways but that no one had ever kissed him like they were glad that he was the one they were kissing. No one had ever taken a kiss with David Rose so seriously. Not until Patrick.

He let himself relax into the kiss. Patrick’s lips had changed from soft and comforting to something more demanding and he licked at David’s mouth, a quiet moan escaping him as David’s lips parted.

He shifted his weight so Patrick was beneath him. He felt Patrick’s breath hitch as their cocks touched. Patrick’s hard cock pressed against him through the layers of fabric that separated them. 

“David…” Patrick’s voice was thin and reedy, laced with need. 

“Tell me what you want.” He ran his hand up Patrick’s denim clad thigh, stopping at his hip as Patrick bucked towards his touch.

“Less...less clothes.” Patrick tugged at his clothes, fingers seeking bare skin. David nipped at his neck, making him moan and writhe under him before kneeling to remove his sweater. Even before he’d pulled it over his head, Patrick’s hands were running along his stomach; he flinched as Patrick touched the ticklish spot at the top of his hip. If only the room was a little darker so that Patrick wasn’t able to examine him so closely. 

Patrick sat up to remove his own sweater, pulling David towards him, even as it hit the floor. He cupped David’s face in his hands and ran his thumbs along David’s cheekbones. 

“Look at you.” 

He rolled his eyes and tried to look away but Patrick’s hands held him firmly. 

“I never thought…” Patrick’s voice was breathy and he was having trouble forming coherent sentences. “I’m really, really gay.” He started to laugh and David joined him, pushing him back down on the bed, playful now as they giggled together for a minute as the weight of their earlier conversation faded away.

He stroked his hand down Patrick’s chest, scratching his fingernails lightly through the thread of hair that disappeared beneath the waist of Patrick’s jeans. Patrick’s stomach shivered at David’s touch. He rested his hand on the button of Patrick’s jeans and pressed a kiss behind his ear. “Tell me what you want.”

Patrick’s hips twitched again. He appeared to have recovered his usual confidence. He ran his fingers through David’s hair, tugging gently. “Suck my cock, David.”

He couldn’t stop his whine at Patrick’s words. He skimmed his hand over the front of Patrick’s jeans, smiling as Patrick’s hips lifted to meet him. He tugged at the button. 

“Off.”

As Patrick struggled out of his clothes, he pulled off his own pants, retrieving his sweater from the floor and folding and placing all of his clothes on Alexis’s bed. He turned to find Patrick smirking at his fastidiousness, his jeans kicked aside, clad only in his grey briefs.

He took David’s breath away. He’d slept with models and TV stars, but the look of sincerity and need on Patrick’s face made him forget all of them. He reached to kiss him, deliberately sloppy and almost lazy and playful. Patrick surged to meet him, before tipping his head back as David kissed down his neck. He continued down Patrick’s chest, pausing briefly to suck and nip at his collarbone, leaving a mark as Patrick ran his fingernails down his sides.

Through his briefs, he traced his fingers along Patrick’s cock; it was hard and leaking and it jumped slightly at David’s touch. He squeezed lightly, his own cock twitching in response as Patrick gasped and moved his hips towards him. Sliding his hands under the waistband of Patrick’s he slid them down until Patrick could kick them away before settling between his legs. 

He ran his hands up Patrick’s thighs, pressing a line of kisses in behind the touch of his fingers. 

“David…” It was a whine, high and thin, as Patrick’s hand tangled in his hair, tugging impatiently. 

“So needy…” He licked Patrick’s cock from the base to the tip, smirking as Patrick responded, his hands clutching at the sheets.

“Fuck you.” The words were a mumble that faded into a gasp as he took the head of Patrick’s cock into his mouth, teasing him gently with his tongue before taking him deeper. He let Patrick’s cock hit the back of his throat, holding him still for a moment as Patrick moaned, before finding a rhythm. Patrick’s entire body moved beneath him, tiny movements that were turning David on even more. 

“So good...so close…” Patrick was panting and when David’s eyes moved up his body, his eyes were blown wide. He took him deep one last time before his hips bucked and he came into David’s mouth, his hand coming up to stroke David’s face. 

He crawled back up the bed. Before he could say anything, Patrick kissed him, tongue pressing between his lips before he pulled back to look at David. He interrupted before Patrick could speak, his voice low and coarse.

“Don’t you dare fucking thank me right now.” 

“C’mere.” Patrick laughed and his voice was rough as he pulled David back down on top of him, running his hands down his back to grab his ass, grinding them together. 

He knew he wasn’t going to last. It was like he was a teenager, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so turned on by so little. Usually the subtle balance that came with drawing out the tension pushed him over the edge. Patrick’s hands slipped under the band of his briefs, pushing them away. He kicked them off, pressing himself back down against Patrick, Patrick’s fingernails scratched softly at the small of his back, making his hips buck forward. He rocked into Patrick, his breath coming faster. Patrick reached up to kiss him, and as he forced his tongue into his mouth he came, bright stars coloring his vision before he collapsed against Patrick’s shoulder.

He rolled off of Patrick, who kissed him on the cheek before searching beside the bed for something to clean them up, coming up with his discarded t-shirt. Deciding it was good enough for now, he wrapped his arms around Patrick and kissed the back of his neck before tugging the comforter over top of both of them and drifting to sleep.

***

His arm was asleep. Patrick came awake slowly, blinking as the dated teal blue and chocolate brown walls of the motel room came into focus. His arm hung over the edge of the small mattress, tingling unpleasantly. Burrowed into the bed beside him, David was still asleep, one arm draped over Patrick’s stomach, a leg tucked between his like a fuzzy, black and white octopus. 

He pulled his arm back onto the bed, shifting a little and squeezing his fingers open and closed until the pins and needles started to subside. He smiled to himself, thinking about the night before, David’s hands stroking his thighs, cupping his face, his lips pressed to his stomach, his teeth teasing Patrick’s nipple, the look on his face as he came. 

But his smile faded as he recalled the conversation that had come first, reliving David’s confession about Sebastien, about the people who had hurt him. He wanted to find every person who had made David feel like he wasn’t enough, who had torn him down and rip them to pieces, like some kind of crusading knight. But he couldn’t fix David’s past. All he could do was show him he was different, that he wouldn’t hurt him.

Knowing that David probably expected Patrick to leave him, even as he had shared the details of his past, overwhelmed him. He stared at the ceiling tiles, his eyes tracing the spots and marks that showed their age. The arm around his waist suddenly tightened and he shivered as David’s lips pressed against the side of his neck. He turned his head to see David’s sleepy eyes looking back at him.

“Morning.”

“Hi.”

He leaned in to kiss David, only to miss his target as David had the same idea, his kiss landing somewhere in the middle of David’s nose. With a laugh, he brought his hand up to hold David’s head in place, kissing him softly. 

“I hate to ruin the moment, but I think we have about fifteen minutes before someone comes through that door.” 

“Good to know.” He kissed David again, lingering for a second, still thinking about the night before. “Mind if I take a shower?”

He gathered up his clothes from the floor, grimacing at the state of his t-shirt that they’d used to clean themselves up with before falling asleep last night. 

“Here.” David handed him a t-shirt and clean underwear, kissing him teasingly, running a hand down his side and grabbing his ass. He shivered a little, tempted to pull David back into bed, regardless of the consequences.

“I thought you were expecting company?” He extricated himself from David’s grasp and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Hair and skin care products lined the limited shelf space in the tacky room. He searched for some shampoo, finally locating some in the corner of the tub. He gave it a tentative sniff, happy to discover it smelled like David.

He’d gotten out of the shower when a door banged shut and voices came from the other room. 

“Ew, David. Are you still in bed?” 

“Drink paint, Alexis.” He’d never met David’s sister before, but David complained about her frequently. Still, David’s voice was fond, despite the insult.

“Who’s in the bathroom? Ew, you better not have been doing sex things on my bed.”

“We didn’t do anything on your bed.” The frustration in David’s voice increased. Patrick quickly pulled on his clothes, unsure what the next stage of this conversation would bring, but definitely sure he didn’t want to be naked while it occurred.

He opened the door to find a tall blond woman looking at him curiously. She held out her hand flirtatiously. “Alexis.”

With an amused smile, he took it, his smile growing as she held onto his hand a bit too long. “Patrick.”

“Aren’t you the cutest thing.” Patrick had never had anyone flirt with him so intensely. 

“Um…” He wasn’t sure what to say to someone who flirted with him and told him he was cute in front of the guy he had slept with.

“Where have you been?” David glared at his sister. They fascinated Patrick. He’d never seen anyone put so much affection into a conversation filled with frustration and insults.

“I told you I was leading a tour to Egypt. We watched them bring Tutankhamun back to Luxor, it was amazing!” Alexis’s hands pranced through the air as she told her story.

“I’m amazed that you even know who Tutankhamun was.” Patrick grinned to himself, it was nice to hear David’s mockery directed as someone else. 

“Of course, David. They made us take a class.” Alexis said it as though it was self-evident and perhaps it should have been obvious that time travel tour guides would need to take courses on the places visited.

“And you didn’t even get arrested this time.” 

“Of course not, David. I only got arrested once when I was time travelling and it was a complete misunderstanding. How was I supposed to know that Thailand has a law about the number of decks of playing cards you can have?” Patrick wanted to ask for more information, but the annoyance on David’s face made him decide against prolonging the conversation. He should probably leave, head back to Ray’s to get different clothes and think about the things he needed to do today but he didn’t want to tear himself away from David. Even the bickering between David and his sister made him feel warm inside.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” 

“Yes, I’m going to Ted’s. Don’t do anything on my bed!” Alexis grabbed her hat and purse from the bed and left the room, the door banging closed behind her.

“Sorry about my sister.” David crossed his arms from embarrassment, his mouth twisting as Patrick had to bite his lips to keep from laughing.

He pushed David backwards until his back hit the wall, enjoying the look of him, hair mussed, still in his pajamas. David ran his fingers along his cheek before flinching away, a horrified look on his face. Worried that something was seriously wrong, he raised his eyebrows at David.

“You didn’t moisturize!” He was pretty sure that if he told David that his daily skin care involved chapstick and the occasional bit of hand lotion that David might actually leave him. David pushed him over to the end of Alexis’s bed. 

“Sit.” David went into the bathroom, returning with an armful of products that he set on the table beside the bed. 

“Hmm.” David grasped his chin, tilting his head to examine his face. He reached for a small bottle with a clear liquid inside it, squirting a pea-sized amount on his fingertips, before spreading it in small circles into Patrick’s skin. He closed his eyes, it was strangely erotic, having David touch him so deliberately. 

“Open your eyes and look up.” David traded the first bottle for a round jar, putting a small dot of the product onto the tip of his index finger, he dabbed it softly under Patrick’s eyes, he could smell the eucalyptus scent of it. David carefully put the lid back on the container, picking up a larger bottle and squirting a dime-sized amount of moisturizer into his hand, before carefully spreading it across Patrick’s cheeks, gently working it into the areas along his nose and eyes. When David reached Patrick’s lips, he couldn’t stop them from parting slightly, a small sigh escaping at the sensual feel of David’s touch. 

David seemed oblivious, focused on applying the moisturizer evenly, his eyes narrowed in concentration. A wave of affection overtook him as he watched David fuss with his skincare products.

“If you’re going outside today, you really should add a sunscreen.” 

“I mean, I’m probably going outside. I assume we’re not spending the whole day in this room.”

David rolled his eyes at him, before reaching for another bottle and repeating the same process as he had with the moisturizer. 

“So you do this every day?” No wonder David never arrived anywhere before ten in the morning. 

“This? No, this is half of what I do, but my other products aren’t calibrated for your skin type.” David leaned in to kiss him, one hand behind his head, tilting his chin up. He kissed him back, running his hands down David’s arms. Feeling David’s fingers on his face made him re-examine his definition of intimacy. He’d thought that what they’d done last night had been intimate, and it had been, but there was a tenderness when David spread the moisturizer over his skin that made his heart pound. The longer he stayed, the harder it was to leave.

“I’m gonna go, but I’ll pick you up later, say three o’clock?” If he didn’t leave now, he knew he really would spend all day in David’s room. He tilted his head back for another kiss.

“Mmm hmm.” David kissed him again. “Where are we going?”

“Just be sure to apply that sunscreen.” David growled at him in frustration, but Patrick only smirked at him as he closed the door behind him.

“But where are we going?” David’s plaintive voice follow him out the door.

***

Patrick’s car pulled into the motel parking lot exactly at three o’clock, precisely on time. Patrick was always on time, it was one of the things David found irritating about him, like his button-up shirts and the way he kept his hair just a little too short to curl properly. As he got into the passenger seat, he peered into the back seat, hoping for a clue of where they might be going. The only thing on the seat was a fuzzy plaid blanket that looked like it had seen better days.

“Where are we going?” David got in the car, barely closing the door before asking the question that had been nagging at him since he’d seen Patrick that morning. 

“Hi.” Patrick kissed him hello, squeezing his leg gently before he backed out of his parking spot. They drove through town and Patrick took the turn to Elmdale. David sat back in his seat, feeling unreasonably sulky about being kept in the dark. Now and then Patrick would glance over at him and smirk before looking back at the road.

Patrick’s smugness was making him crazy, he reached out and laid his hand on Patrick’s leg, leaving it there for a moment before slowing trailing his fingers up the seam of Patrick’s jeans. He grinned to himself when he felt Patrick shift in his seat, a hint of red staining his cheeks. Patrick put his hand over David’s stopping his teasing.

“If you make me crash the car, you’ll never find out where we’re going.”

“Fine.” He tried to take his hand away, but Patrick tangled their fingers together, holding his hand all the way to Elmdale. He wanted to be bratty and pull his hand away, but then he wouldn’t be able to hold Patrick’s hand anymore. He chewed on his cheek for a moment, considering, before he left it where it was. 

They pulled into the Elmdale grocery store and he raised his eyebrows at Patrick. “You’re taking me grocery shopping?”

“I need to grab a few things for our next stop. Unless you need some milk or eggs or something?” Patrick mocked him, eyebrows raised. Why did he always want to kiss Patrick when he was like this? Not wanting to encourage him, he crossed his arms and shook his head, thinking about Patrick’s lips.

Grocery stores were so offensive, with the bright packaging and the other customers, most of whom had screaming children in tow. Still, he followed Patrick into the store, trailing behind him as he grabbed one of the ugly red baskets by the door and put crackers and chips and grapes in it. Patrick ignored his discomfort, focused on whatever mental list he was using to navigate the aisles. It reminded David of the times that Adelina had taken them grocery shopping, how he would wander behind her and Alexis, feeling invisible in the over-lit store.

Patrick stopped in front of the cheese counter and David nearly ran into him, steadying himself on the edge of the cooler. Touching the counter was revolting, he grimaced and wiped his hand on his pants. Patrick held two different types of cheese in his hand and he overcame his distaste at being forced to go into the grocery store and offered an opinion.

“The local brie, obviously.” He could see Patrick was holding back a smile but he didn’t say anything, putting the brie into the basket. 

By the time they’d finished, Patrick had added wine and chocolate to the groceries and David was even more intrigued about where they were going. He refused to ask again and followed Patrick back out to the car. A few minutes later, Patrick pulled into the parking lot of one of Elmdale’s parks. It was exactly the type of park that David approved of, trees and flowerbeds dotted the manicured grass, stretching to surround a pretty lake in the middle. He waited as Patrick took the groceries and a bag out of the trunk of the car.

“Grab that blanket?” Patrick gestured to the back seat.

“Are you going to make me sit on the grass?” It was times like this when he questioned why he wanted to spend time with someone who didn’t understand the proper way of doing things, about why grocery stores were inappropriate and awful and why it was never correct to be so close to the ground. 

“That’s right.”

With an eye roll to let Patrick know how he felt about that turn of events, he grabbed the blanket and followed Patrick into the park. They walked for a while, holding hands, farther away from the parking lot, the people thinned out and Patrick stopped to spread out the blanket. He sat in the middle and patted the spot beside him. David sighed and rolled his eyes.

“You’re really going to make me do this?”

“I guess you could just stand there.” For a second he was tempted to do that, like a modern day picnic sentry, but the cheese and crackers and chocolate and Patrick were all on the ground, so he gave in and arranged himself as carefully as possible on the blanket, deliberately not touching any of the exposed ground near the edges. He sat beside Patrick and let him wrap his arms around him. Patrick rested his chin on David’s shoulder.

“This is nice.” Patrick’s voice was almost a whisper. He nodded, his cheek brushing against Patrick’s. A soft kiss landed behind his ear. It was nice. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come to a park for a picnic. Or if he’d ever done that. Other than Central Park, his trips to parks had been about making out or if it was dark enough, having sex. But to just come and sit was new. That was what Patrick did, forced him to slow down, to think about things.

“So, I was thinking…” Patrick interrupted his train of thought. “There are some other places and times I’d like to see...maybe you might want to show them to me? Maybe you might want a partner?” 

He froze for a second even as a torrent of nervous energy flowed beneath his skin. It sounded like Patrick was asking him to make a commitment. He wanted to, so badly, but the thought of getting hurt again held him back. He was afraid that if they gave a name to the connection that was growing between them they might damage it, as though it was a fragile thing made of glass that needed to be wrapped in tissue paper. 

“David?” Patrick relaxed the hold on his shoulders, shifting so he could see David’s face. His voice was cautious, worried that he’d pushed David too quickly.

“Yeah. Yes. I...would like that.” He’d never wanted Patrick so much. He’d never been so terrified. As though it was written on his face, Patrick stroked his jaw with his thumb, tilting his head so he could kiss him more easily.

“One more question.” Patrick’s voice was serious and anxiety gripped him for a second before Patrick spoke again. “Do you want some cheese?”


	5. Florence 1979 & Wimbledon 1966

“How about San Francisco, 1965?”

They were sitting side by side on Patrick’s bed at Ray’s looking at open time travel contract locations on Patrick’s laptop.

“Mmm, can’t say as I’ve ever had a desire to explore hippie culture in more detail.” David wrinkled his nose in distaste. “How about Japan, 1952?”

“Okay, but it says here they want a black market katana sword. Not sure either of us have the knowledge to find one of those. What about Toronto, 1993? We could watch the Blue Jays win the World Series.” Patrick rested his free hand on David’s leg and continued scrolling through the database with the other.

“You know my feelings on team sports. How about Florence, 1979 to visit the Prada studio?” David was always excited whenever they found a contract related to fashion. Patrick gave his leg a squeeze and pulled up the details. 

“Mmm, okay. I’ve never been to Italy.” A couple of days in Italy sounded like the perfect way to mix work with a holiday.

Patrick handed the laptop to David so he could enter his bid into the system. There was a brief wait as the information was processed and approved. Patrick pressed a kiss beside David’s ear, nuzzling at him, breathing in the scent that was uniquely David. David turned to kiss him before turning back to the computer, ignoring Patrick’s whine of frustration.

“We have work to do. First off, I need a permit.” 

“Oh, a permit. If you go downstairs, Ray might have time to do that for you.” 

David pinched his leg and handed back the laptop so he could fill in the permit details. He pressed print and from downstairs he could hear Ray’s printer come to life.

“So when do we leave?” The contract seemed simple enough and he assumed David would be eager to get underway. 

“We have way too much planning to do first.” David pulled up different websites for Florentine fashion, attractions, food, accommodations and began building a file of information. He huffed in amusement as Patrick made a small noise of astonishment. 

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” He was completely turned-on watching David as he planned this trip. Given David’s previous distaste when he came to keeping his paperwork up to date, he’d assumed their trip would be a lot more spontaneous. He rested his head on David’s shoulder as he built an itinerary and a list of important information about Florence in 1979. He couldn’t help himself from trailing his hand along David’s stomach as he plugged addresses and other details into a spreadsheet. David pressed a kiss to his forehead before turning back to the computer. He paused to look at Patrick more closely.

“Wait. You’re really into this.” David’s eyes were dark and there was a spark deep inside them. 

He shrugged, embarrassed. “I like watching you work.” David was so focused, a little crease appeared between his eyes. Patrick had never seen this side of him before. He reached out to rub the crease with his thumb.

“Hmm, I’m starting to think you only like me for my spreadsheets.”

“That’s definitely not it. The spreadsheets are just a bonus.”

With a laugh, David shoved the laptop aside and pounced on him, pinning him to the mattress. “Maybe I should give you something else to think about?”

“Like what? Do you have a ten-point plan you’ve been hiding from me?” God he hoped there was a ten-point plan. David could recite all ten points to him starting with what he intended to do now that he had Patrick pinned to the bed. Thinking about it made him squirm beneath David, eager for more.

“I can come up with something.” David held his hands above his head and nipped at his jaw, a little below his ear. Patrick turned his head to give David a better angle. He never would have thought being held down was such a turn-on, but it was. David licked at the spot he’d bitten and he shivered. David’s eyes went dark at his involuntary reaction. David kissed him gently before releasing his hands.

“We are definitely picking this up again soon, but I have to get this spreadsheet done.” Frustration like he’d never felt before washed through him. He whimpered a little as David let him go and he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to regain his composure.

“God, you know you’ve ruined me.” David arched an eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything. “I used to be the conscientious one, now look at me.” 

David leaned down to kiss him again. “It’s well known that I’m a bad influence.”

It took a couple of days before David was satisfied that he’d planned everything to the best of his ability for a trip that was forty years in the past. 

“There are always surprises.”

Patrick laughed at how disgruntled he sounded. “Not everything runs according to your desired plan?”

“It’s very inconvenient.” David rolled his eyes at the universe’s unwillingness to comply with his needs but he grinned back at Patrick.

David insisted that they complete the terms of the contract first before spending a couple of days exploring Florence. “If something goes wrong, we’ll have two days to fix it.” Patrick couldn’t argue with that logic, the terms and conditions were explicit that not fulfilling the contract would result in a fine.

“What is the contract, anyway?” All he’d seen from the database was that it related to the Prada fashion company.

“Mmm, Prada released its first collection of women’s shoes in 1979. The client has two specific pairs that they want.”

“That’s definitely your department, then. Unless they’re looking for baseball cleats?”

He laughed again at David’s flat stare at the idea of a couture fashion designed getting involved in sporting equipment.

“Are we ready to do this?”

**Florence, 1979**

They arrived in Florence on what David explained was the Via de’Tornabuoni, the high street of Florentine fashion. A stone building on the corner of two streets housed the Prada store. Large, domed windows stretched twenty feet in the air, each decorated with carved stonework, showcasing the designs inside. David hustled them into the line that was already stretching out the door.

Although they were standing in the heart of the fashion district, the tourists around them were mostly wearing casual shirts and jeans, the crowd a wash of 1970s browns and oranges. 

Patrick craned his neck to look around, he loved the feel of it, the stone buildings and the terracotta roofs and how the architecture was so old and serious, like stepping even further back in time than 1979. The street was narrow, with the gothic-style buildings rising two to three stories on either side. It should have been claustrophobic, but the shops and people felt cozy instead. 

David slung an arm around his shoulder and pointed down the street to a massive pillar topped by a statue. “The Column of Justice, one of the popes gifted it to Florence in the 1500s.” It was so impossibly old for something that was just sitting there, in the middle of the street, with a few pigeons perched on the top. Then the line was moving and he followed David into the Prada store.

Immediately, he was uncomfortable, but it was like David had come to life. Even in 1979 currency, the prices were well beyond anything he could afford. Yet David made his way through the store, lingering over some items and dismissing others before they made it to the section with the women’s shoes. David pointed out a couple of pairs and before he knew it they were back out on the street, David tugged them back against the building so they’d be out of the flow of the foot traffic. He pulled a list and a map out of his pocket.

Before David could guide them to their next destination, Patrick reached out and slipped his arms around his waist, smiling as David placed his hands on his shoulders. 

“Thank you for this.”

“For what?” David ducked his head and his eyes moved away the way he always did when Patrick thanked him for something.

“For this.” Patrick gestured at the surrounding street before including David and himself in the gesture. He couldn’t quite put it into words. It wasn’t just traveling in time, it was how David had allowed him into this part of his life, had been willing to share part of himself with Patrick.

“When else am I going to get to buy vintage Prada shoes?”

“Okay.” He kissed him quickly before letting David move down the street, their hands tangled together so they wouldn’t lose each other in the crowd. For a city he’d never been to before, he felt strangely at home. But more than the history or the buildings or anything else, he loved to see David in this place. It was as though he belonged here, wandering streets filled with art and architecture. The Cathedral was designed by Brunellschi, he said, expecting that Patrick would know what that meant. 

After a quick stop to drop the Prada shoes and their bag at the hotel that David had selected, David declared that they were ready to explore the city. As they were leaving the hotel, Patrick spotted a small rental stand that offered Vespa scooters for rent. The fleet of multi-colored scooters were lined up in a row against the building. He pulled David over to take a closer look. Before they had even approached the stand, David was already protesting.

“No, no, no. Absolutely not. I don’t do modes of transportation that have a higher than average death rate.” David shook his head dramatically and backed away a couple of steps.

“I’m sure they have helmets.” David scrunched up his face, even more horrified. 

“It’ll be fun, I can drive, all you have to do is hold on to my waist.” He kissed David on the cheek, waiting for him to adjust to the idea. 

“Fine. But you owe me a good meal with wine. Good wine.” That didn’t sound like much of a hardship, but if David was talking about food, Patrick knew he had won the battle.

“C’mon, David.” He negotiated the rental with the man who owned the stand, grateful that he spoke some English. He handed David a helmet, fortunately, they had one in black and white to match David’s outfit. 

“I don’t like this.” David had settled onto the bright red scooter behind him, his arms clasped around Patrick’s waist.

“We’re not even moving yet.” He twisted around so he could see David. “Tell you what. We’ll go to the closest place on your itinerary and if you hate it, we don’t have to go any further.”

“Okay.” David leaned in to kiss him, knocking their helmets together with a thunk, making him growl in frustration. 

The Ponte Vecchio was the first location on David’s list. Patrick quickly got the hang of driving the little scooter through the narrow streets. He could feel David’s arms clasped around his waist, but the movement and the helmet made it impossible to tell how he was feeling. They arrived at the historic bridge that crossed the Arno River. From the outside, he could see the tiny shops that lined the sides of the bridge and jutted out over the water. He brought the scooter to a stop, turning to look at David.

He raised his eyebrows at David, waiting for a reaction. David tried to scowl at him, but he couldn’t keep from smiling. “That was very fun.”

“That’s right.”

David pulled off the helmet and fussed at his hair with his hands. Patrick chose not to tell him it hadn’t made much difference, his hair was still flatter than normal. 

They left the helmets with the scooter and walked onto the covered bridge. Goldsmiths and jewellers lined the sides of the roadway, Patrick let David guide them from shop to shop, as they stopped to look in the various display windows. David paused for a long time at one shop, looking at a set of gold rings that matched the silver ones he wore every day. Patrick smiled to himself, imagining putting them on David’s fingers, knowing it was much too soon to be thinking about anything along those lines.

On their way back to the heart of the city, Patrick insisted they stop at the Porcellino Fontana, much to David’s disgust. 

“It’s a pig. And it’s not even a cute pig, like the one from the movie ‘Babe.’ It has tusks!”

“You know it’s not real, right? And it’s good luck. You rub its nose and put a coin in its mouth and if the coin falls through the grate, you get good luck.”

They made their way to where the boar-shaped fountain stood in the middle of an open market. Patrick reached up to rub the pig’s nose, smiling as David tentatively followed his lead. He handed David a one lira coin and put his own coin into the pig’s mouth, laughing as his coin missed the grate and bounced away. David did the same, only to have his coin fall through the grate with a splash.

“No good luck for me. You’ll have to lend me some of yours.” He leaned back into David, smiling as his arms came around him. David kissed the spot behind his ear, making him shiver. They stayed that way for a moment, watching other people enjoy the street market. 

“Do we get to eat now?”

David insisted on the Cibreo Trattoria. Patrick was doubly glad he’d persuaded David to rent the scooter, he tired and walking was not appealing. They sat at one of the outdoor tables, David sighed happily when the server brought them a bottle of wine.

It had been a perfect day. He reached across the table for David’s hand, contentment reflected back at him from David’s eyes. He could see himself here again and again, or at some other table, in some other city, in some other time, with David, exhausted and happy. 

Back at the hotel, they returned the scooter and headed up to their room. Inside, he kicked off his shoes and fell onto the bed with a groan, suddenly exhausted. David sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down to unlace his high-top sneakers before curling up beside him. He shifted over slightly so that David could share his pillow.

David had said he was too much and he could feel it now, though not in the way David had meant. David might drown him, if he wasn’t careful, he might get swept away. Maybe he already had been. He ran a hand through David’s hair and down his face, leaving his hand pressed gently against his cheek. David closed his eyes against his touch.

It felt like an hour, but was probably only a minute, that they stayed there like that, Patrick memorizing David’s face as it relaxed under his fingers. He could feel the sharpness of David’s stubble, his soft breath against his hand, the rise and fall of his chest and when he pulled his fingers away, David whined, just a little. “We shouldn’t fall asleep like this.” He kissed David gently on the forehead and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth first so that David could take as long as he liked. He was finishing when David leaned in the doorway behind him.

“I’ve never done this before.” David was trying to sound casual, but there was something else in his voice, a mixture of wonder and apprehension.

“Brushed your teeth?” 

David huffed at him. “This.” He waved vaguely at the bathroom. “Time traveled together. Shared a space with someone. Except Alexis, but that doesn’t count.”

“Never?” When he’d asked David to take him time traveling, he’d assumed it was something he’d done before, with someone else. David shook his head and Patrick’s eyes met his in the mirror. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” David’s brow was furrowed, his eyes narrowed.

Brushing his teeth had never been so significant before. He examined David’s face in the mirror for a moment longer before turning to face him. “Make ordinary things seem extraordinary.” Maybe David was embarrassed about never having done this before, but it made Patrick’s knees buckle to know he was sharing it with him for the first time.

David gaped at him for a second, taken aback. His voice was quiet when he replied. “Some people would say I make things harder than they are.”

“I’m not some people.”

***

When David woke the next morning, sunlight was streaming in the window, Patrick pressed against him, his hand stroking small circles on David’s hip. It reminded him of how they’d woken up together in Barcelona, except this time he could do what he hadn’t been able to do then. When he twisted to see the time he was surprised that it was almost nine o’clock.

“Hi.”

The soft brown eyes met his. They were still sleepy but David wanted to fall into them, to drown in their whiskey-colored warmth.

“Hi.”

Patrick’s grip on his hip tightened a little, attempting to pull David even closer. David tilted his head slightly, kissing him gently, not even caring that neither of them had brushed their teeth. Had he ever done this before? He didn’t think so. It was unheard of that someone would cuddle closer to him instead of pushing him away. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun during a trip. Usually he tried to get in and out as quickly as possible. Despite Patrick’s insistence on including objectionable things like scooters and lucky pigs, he’d enjoyed every minute of the previous day. 

Patrick’s fingers were teasing him now, tracing along the waistband of his pajama bottoms. With a sudden burst of energy that he usually reserved for later in the day, he flipped them over, trapping Patrick beneath him.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” 

Patrick’s expression was steady and unflinching, his eyes growing darker in the bright sunlight. “Never.”

He kissed him again, lazy, feeling the heat growing between them. Patrick relaxed beneath him, his hands still tracing soft patterns on David’s back. Despite the press of David’s larger frame above him, Patrick’s body was loose and languid as he returned David’s kiss and tugged him closer. A thought burst over him like a wave. Patrick trusted him. He _trusted_ him. 

The weight of it bore down on him like nothing he’d ever known before. He pulled back, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Patrick’s, trying to adjust to a sensation that he’d never felt before. On his back, Patrick’s hands stilled.

“David?”

“You shouldn’t...you shouldn’t trust me. Most people don’t trust me, usually.” He didn’t know what to do with this. He knew how to be hurt. But no one had ever trusted him enough that he might hurt them in return. The responsibility was immense.

“I’m not most people.” Patrick brought his hands up to cup David’s face. That made it worse. How could he make Patrick understand that this was a bad idea?

“No. You’re not.” Before he could try to articulate his concerns, Patrick continued speaking.

“Are you planning some huge betrayal? Or are you a Russian spy, sent to steal my security clearance?”

He shook his head, torn between wanting to laugh and cry. It was better for both of them if Patrick didn’t trust him. He couldn’t be counted on to keep that trust safe, to keep Patrick from being hurt. But he didn’t know how to explain how dangerous this was.

Patrick’s voice was tender. “Then David, let me trust you.”

He’d always assumed that Patrick would break him, the same way that everyone else had in the past. Now he knew that when that day came it would be different than all the other times, that when Patrick broke him he might never put himself back together again. But for the first time he didn’t care, if he got to have this, even for a little while, it would be worth it.

Before he could get further into his head, Patrick’s hands found the ticklish spot above his hip. He yelped as Patrick tickled him and rolled them over, kissing the middle of his nose. 

“Doesn’t someone’s itinerary say that we have somewhere to be this morning?”

“So we are leaving this unfinished, then?”

“It will never be finished, David.” Patrick got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. David leaned his head back and closed his eyes, unsure how much more of Patrick’s sincerity he could take.

After breakfast, David led Patrick through the streets of Florence. It wasn’t as busy as the day before; they passed a handful of tourists enjoying the sunshine. Their horrible 1970s clothes made him cringe like they had yesterday, but he was too content with Patrick’s company to say anything out loud. He was glad that Patrick seemed happy to walk today; he didn’t need the unnecessary trauma of having to wear a scooter helmet for two days in a row.

Their first stop was in the opposite direction from the other places he planned to take Patrick today, but he didn’t care. He’d never been to the Accademia Gallery and he wanted to share it with Patrick. As they waited in line, he read parts of the brochure to Patrick, nearly bouncing with excitement.

“It took Michelangelo three years to finish it. Three years! Listen to this: ‘no other artwork is equal to it in any respect, with such just proportion, beauty and excellence did Michelangelo finish it.’”

“I’m surprised you’ve never seen it before.” Patrick looked at him fondly and he reached out to take David’s hand, probably to keep him in one place. Patrick gave an apologetic look to at the people standing next to them.

He shrugged. “When you’re selling contemporary art, it’s not always cool to like the classics.” 

They followed the rest of the crowd into the gallery. At the end of a hall filled with partially completed ancient stone statues Michelangelo’s ‘David’ sat at the center of a rotunda, glowing with the light from the skylight overhead. The naked form towered over the visitors, the shadows in the white marble highlighting the precision of the carving. As they came closer, the exquisite detail appeared in the veins carved into the statue’s hands, the tense muscles of its legs, ready to move.

“It’s stunning.” Patrick pulled him back to the edge of the gallery, allowing some of the other people to get closer to the artwork. He wrapped an arm around David and rested his chin on David’s shoulder. “He’s only the second prettiest David in the room, though.”

He was suspicious. Patrick didn’t compliment him often, usually choosing teasing over sincerity. His face was serious this time so David shook his head, unable to hide the tiny smile that teased the corner of his mouth.

They toured the rest of the museum.The display of musical instruments captivated Patrick, he spent a long time looking at a Stradivarius violin until David finally dragged him away.

“I wonder how much a violin costs?” Patrick’s voice was wistful as he admired the Stradivarius.

“You don’t play the violin.”

“For an instrument like that, I would learn.” 

Hearing Patrick play the violin was an intriguing prospect. Maybe not while he was learning. David shuddered to imagine the screeching noises a novice violin player would make. But later, once he knew how to play, David would like to hear him. “I’m pretty sure that one is outside your budget.”

They left the museum laughing, holding hands as they headed out into the street, now much busier than it had been earlier. For a brief second, from the corner of his eye, David thought he saw Sebastien in the midst of the crowd. He paused, scanning the faces and people for the sight of the ugly wool sweater that Sebastien always wore. 

“You okay?” 

He snapped out of the daze he was in and found himself in the middle of the street. “Fine. I thought I saw someone I knew.” If Sebastien had been there, he was gone now. That didn’t stop his stomach from feeling like a large block of ice.

They headed back towards the central part of Florence. He was jumpy now, looking at every face a bit too long, expecting to see Sebastien around every corner. Patrick glanced at him a few times, but he said nothing. 

They stopped at the Piazza della Signoria to eat lunch from one of the cafes while the buskers in the plaza. Even though he’d told him about his past with Sebastien, he still hadn’t told Patrick about his threats. When he got home, he would text Sebastien and tell him that Patrick knew everything. Maybe that would keep Sebastien from blackmailing him. Patrick frowned at him and started to speak before he changed his mind and intertwined their fingers on the table without pressing him any further. 

They spent the afternoon at the Uffizi Gallery. Being inside felt safer, as though it was less likely that they’d be spotted. He gave Patrick an impromptu art history lesson, sharing details on the Renaissance painters until Patrick begged him to stop. 

“No more paintings. I can’t tell a Bottecelli from a Caravaggio anymore.”

“Could you ever?” He discreetly checked the timer on the app on his phone. They were almost out of time. Outside the gallery, they leaned against the stone wall next to the river. Despite the nagging feeling of dread he had about Sebastien, he’d be sorry to leave, to go back to their regular lives. As though he could sense David thoughts, Patrick slipped his arms around his waist. He was about to say something when David felt the warning buzz that meant their trip was over. The world went white.

**Schitt’s Creek, 2019**

He checked his texts as he walked back to the motel. In the middle of the messages from Stevie and Alexis was the one he’d been dreading. He opened the message from Sebastien.

**Sebastien:** How did your boyfriend like Florence?  
**Sebastien:** Did he like it as much as New York?

He gritted his teeth and sent a quick response.

**David:** You’re too late. I’ve already told him about my past.

**Sebastien:** You think that will stop me?  
**Sebastien:** I’ll see you around.

***

“What do you think about Wimbledon?” Patrick sat on David’s bed with his laptop, looking for new contracts while David was in the bathroom, reorganizing his skincare products and complaining about how Alexis always borrowed things without asking.

“Mmm, golf? Sound boring.” David poked his head out of the doorway and grimaced at him.

“It’s not golf, it’s tennis.” As usual, he had to laugh at David’s lack of knowledge about sports. “1966, Billie Jean King’s first singles win.”

“Billie Jean King?” David put down the bottle he was holding and leaned against the doorframe. “She was the marshall of the New York Pride Parade last year. Are you sure she doesn’t play golf?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” He wasn’t entirely confident that David knew the difference between tennis and golf.

“What are they looking for?” David was still reluctant, but Patrick knew he could persuade him.

“It sounds like a quick trip, just general souvenirs and photos. Autographs if we could get them.”

“If we do this trip, does that mean we don’t have to do more sports for a while?” David sounded whiny, the way he always did when Patrick talked about traveling to different sporting events. 

“It’s a deal.” 

Since their trip to Florence, they’d taken several trips together, to Los Angeles to tour their fashion district, to Chicago to see Shoeless Joe Jackson play baseball and even to Minneapolis to see Bob Dylan. They’d picked up more lucrative contracts with Patrick’s knowledge of sports augmenting David’s expertise in fashion and pop culture. Despite that, and to Patrick’s amusement, David still complained every time a sports related contract came up.

“Which movie do you want to watch?” David held up two DVDs.

“Are those my choices? Practical Magic or The Lake House?” He bit back a smile as David waggled The Lake House at him enticingly. “Well, given the extensive range of options between Sandra Bullock and Sandra Bullock, I’ll go with The Lake House.”

“Great choice.” David beamed at him. He didn’t know why but he loved David the most when he was like this, ridiculous and selfish and charming. He loaded the DVD into the laptop and set it on the end of the bed. 

“C’mere.” He shifted over on the bed so that David could curl up beside him, his head on Patrick’s chest. The plot of The Lake House eluded him. He must have seen it when it came out, it was the type of movie that Rachel would have made him watch. But he couldn’t remember it. They settled into the movie. Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves were delightful and adorable as the main characters who navigated their relationship through two different times, but the plot made him sad and uneasy. Now that he and David were time traveling together, it was heart-wrenching to think of being separated in time. 

He glanced down to see tears running down David’s cheeks and he wiped them away with the tips of his fingers. “Okay?” David nodded against his chest and Patrick pressed a kiss to the top of his head. He wasn’t sure if David felt the same way he was about the movie or if the on-screen romance captivated him. Either was a possibility.

The movie ended and Sandra and Keanu reunited after their two year separation. “Would you wait for me?” David looking at him intently, his eyes bright. The question sounded flippant, but Patrick could tell he was serious.

“David, it took me thirty years to find you, I’d wait two more if I had to.” The words echoed the other words that he’d been holding inside himself, waiting for the perfect moment to say when David was no longer afraid to hear them. 

Commitment came easily to him. Loving the same person, waking up with them every morning had never scared him. It was probably why he’d stayed with Rachel for so much longer than he should have; steady, stable relationships had always appealed to him. But David was different. David shied away from any talk of a future together, he’d spoken about how other people had hurt him. At some point, the words Patrick wanted to say would be too hard for him to hold inside, but for now, he’d wait. 

“I’d hate to be separated in time like that. It’s a good thing we know that time travel doesn’t work that way.” David laid his head back down on Patrick’s chest, his fingers moved in in a tight pattern across his stomach. He scratched gently at the short hair at the back of David’s neck. 

“Good thing.”

**Wimbledon, 1966**

He should have said something when Patrick had bid on the contract to see Billie Jean King play golf. Not golf, tennis, he had to keep reminding himself. 

Sports. How was it he was in lo...dating...how was it he was dating someone who loved sports like Patrick did? He knew that if he put his foot down and insisted that they only take the contracts he was interested in that Patrick might go along with it. Or he might not. Patrick was surprisingly stubborn, particularly when he thought David was being childish or unreasonable. But not wanting to watch sweaty sports people chase balls all over the place in the middle of a crowd of equally sweaty people wasn’t irrational. It was correct.

With a sigh, he followed Patrick into the stadium, both of them picking up programs and souvenir items along the away as they found their seats. 

“This is nice.” Instead of the sweaty t-shirt wearing fans that he’d expected, most of the fans would have fit in nicely at a summer tea party, the women wearing summer dresses and many of the men wearing ties. “There should be a rule that modern sports fans have to dress like this.”

Patrick laughed at him and squeezed his hand as the players came onto the stage.

“They have to wear dresses?” In all the other sports that Patrick watched, the players wore polyester outfits in garish colors. The white dresses were definitely an improvement.

“Mmm hmm. They still do. Don’t you remember when Serena tried to wear a bodysuit?” 

“No.” He didn’t know who Serena was and he thought the dresses were cuter than ugly bodysuits probably would be, but still he thought they should get to wear want they wanted. On the floor, the game had started and one of the players hit the ball out of bounds.

“Does that mean they win?”

“No, just a point. It’s 15-love.”

“What?” Had Patrick said that he loved him? What was he supposed to say? His palms were sweaty. Patrick wasn’t even looking at him, he was focused on the tournament. 

“The score is 15-love. 15 to nothing.”

“Oh.” Clearly this was some tennis thing that he didn’t understand. He took a deep breath to keep his heart from racing. What he would say if Patrick told him he loved him? The thought was overwhelming and scary and a tiny bit thrilling. No one had ever told him they loved him, not seriously. No one had probably even thought it. 

The longing for it came out of nowhere, crashing inside him. He wanted that. He wanted Patrick to tell him he loved him. It wasn’t something he’d ever dared think about before but Patrick was different. Patrick made impossible things possible. One day, maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day, he hoped he got to hear Patrick say he loved him. 

He sat back to watch the game, completely confused by the scoring. Sports were always boring but at least the score was a reliable indicator of who was winning but after Patrick tried for the third time to explain how many games were in a match, he waved him off and watched the players run back and forth. Now and then the announcer would say the score was 15-love and he’d twitch a little in his seat. Maybe sports weren't so bad after all.


	6. Paris, 1924 (I)

**Schitt’s Creek, 2019**

“Do we want to go to Paris?” David put his phone down and glanced over at Patrick, who was stretched out on his bed watching some sports show on the laptop.

“Sure, that sounds like fun.”

“Michelle texted me, she sent a whole list of jewelry and accessories and clothing. Oh, plus she wants souvenirs from the 1924 Olympics. You can watch all the sports ball you want.” He pushed away the thought that this was undoubtedly the contract that Sebastien had been after. He hadn’t heard from him again since he’d told him that Patrick knew everything so he assumed he was gone for good. “Oh my god, she’s offering $40,000 for the contract.” It was the biggest contract he’d had. No wonder Sebastien wanted it so badly. 

“What?” Patrick put down his book and came to look over David’s shoulder.

“She’ll post it on the system tomorrow...we’ll need a few days to prepare.” He texted Michelle back, letting her know they would take the contract. In his head he started making a list of all the research they would need to do before they left. 

“I’ll start researching the Olympics, shall I?” Patrick squeezed his arm and gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

The next few days were a blur of contracts and permits and learning all they could about Paris in 1924. David created the most extensive itinerary he’d ever made, a list of locations and items so long it made his head spin. 

Finally, everything was ready. They stood in David’s hotel room. He smiled at Patrick and gestured to his phone. 

“Are we ready?”

Patrick nodded and together they entered the travel code into their phones. He braced himself, expecting everything to go white, but nothing happened. Confused, he looked up to speak to Patrick. He was gone.

Fear laced through his body. Had he entered the permit number incorrectly? A message on the screen read: **Invalid Permit Number. Contractor Has Been Suspended.**

Something was very, very wrong. He stared at his phone again, not understanding what was happening. He had to find someone who could help him figure out why it wasn’t working. Alexis was gone again and Stevie didn’t time travel, so for once, she couldn’t help him. Frantically, he tried to think of someone else who would know what to do. Ray. Ray knew about permits and contracts.

He ran to Ray’s. He never ran anywhere, ever, but he ran to Ray’s. Ray, who could find out why his permit hadn’t worked. Ray, who could tell him if Patrick had made it to 1924. Ray, who could get him a new permit that would get him to 1924 and back to Patrick.

He burst through the door. Ray was taking photos of a woman and her dog at the front of the room. 

“Ray!” He was out of breath from all the running, but he needed Ray to know how important this was.

“David! Do you have an appointment?” Ray turned away from the camera. The woman held the dog in the air, frozen in place by Ray’s instructions.

“Ray...it’s important.” Oh, god, Patrick was gone. What if he never saw him again? He wanted to throw up. He paced back and forth, trying to get his breathing under control.

“Just let me finish with Janet and her scheduled appointment and I’ll be right with you.” Ray handed him a number from the ticket machine on the wall.

He didn’t have time for this. He tried to catch his breath so to tell Ray what had happened. He waved his phone at Ray.

“Patrick’s gone...but I’m not gone…something’s wrong…”

“David. Are you okay? You’re not having a stroke, are you?” Ray finally straightened up and turned away from the camera. He was concerned, but not about the right thing. David pointed to his phone again. 

“It says I’m suspended.”

Finally, _finally,_ Ray turned to Jessica? Jasmine? Whatever her name was, he didn’t care. Ray showed the woman to the door, suggesting that they reschedule her photography session while David paced impatiently in his front room.

“Now David, let’s see if we can find out what happened.” Ray opened his laptop and logged into the database. He typed for a moment, staring at the screen and making quiet hmming noises. He might crawl out of his skin while he waited. Was Patrick in 1924? Or had some sort of time malfunction caught him?

“Ah yes, it says here that you have been suspended. You should know that you’re not allowed to time travel when you’re suspended. So that is why your permit number failed.” Ray beamed at him, pleased at having solved the problem. 

“But I didn’t know I was suspended! And Patrick has disappeared!” He threw his hands up in the air, frustration and fear churning inside him. He took a deep breath, Patrick was the one who was good at dealing with these kinds of situations. He could do this for Patrick, he could explain what happened to Ray, he could ask the right questions. “Does it say why I’ve been suspended?”

After an eternity of typing and pondering and small irritating noises from Ray, he turned from the computer to speak to David. “It says here that you’ve been suspended for not filing one of your reports.”

“Which report?” As far as he knew, all of their reports were up to date. Patrick was very meticulous when it came to completing their paperwork.

There was more typing from Ray. “Here it is. You didn’t file your report for the trip you took to London in 1694.”

“But I didn’t go to London in 1694!” How was this happening? He stared at Ray, who beamed back at him, eager to help, yet somehow not being helpful at all.

“Well David, failing to comply with the terms of the contract is a significant offense, perhaps that’s why you were suspended.” 

“There was no contract for 1694!” His frustration was growing. How was he still sitting here when Patrick had disappeared? “It was a mistake. Patrick cancelled that permit and issued a new one for 1964.”

Ray looked at the computer screen again. “Ah yes, it says that the permit was cancelled. However, it also says that you need to file a report. So, that’s why you’ve been suspended.” 

“How am I supposed to do that?” 

Ray reached behind him for a piece of paper. “Here’s the report form, fill it out and as soon as it’s in the system, you’ll be able to time travel again.”

“Okay, but what about Patrick?” The details of his suspension didn’t matter, all that mattered was that he couldn’t get to Patrick. It was like there was a block of ice in his chest, keeping him frozen in place.

“What about him?” 

“Is he okay?” His voice sounded small and far away.

“Why wouldn’t he be? His permits are in perfect order. I’m sure he’s enjoying 1924 and you’ll see him back here in 24 hours.” Ray nodded and smiled at Patrick’s ability to keep his permit in such good standing.

He couldn’t deal with Ray anymore. He had other questions, like what would happen when Patrick could only complete half of the contract but Ray would probably not be any more helpful than he had been.

“Thanks.” He took the report form and headed back to the motel.

Back in his room, he sat on the bed, and wrapped his arms around his knees. He shouldn’t be so worried, Patrick would be fine. Just because it was basically his first time travelling alone and it was the largest contract they’d ever had didn’t mean he was in any danger. Patrick was in Paris right now, eating pastries and watching sports. He was fine. He repeated that to himself, over and over, until Stevie found him two hours later.

“Why are you here?” Stevie cocked her head at him, frowning when she saw him on the bed. 

“Why are you here?” 

Stevie held up a stack of towels.

“Oh.” He stared at her helplessly. His worry about Patrick consumed him, rising inside him like a tide. It was all he could focus on.

“Are you okay? And why aren’t you in 1924?” Stevie set the towels by the TV and came to sit beside him on the bed.

He told her the whole story. About the cancelled permit and the report and how Patrick had gone to 1924 but he couldn’t. He tried to hold back his true worries, but the words tumbled out of him anyway.

“What if he can’t make it back? What if the problem with my permit screws things up for him somehow? What if I never see him again?” Saying it out loud made it worse, turning his anxiety from possibility to reality. 

Stevie rubbed his back. Part of him recognized that she must be worried if she was touching him to comfort him. This is how it would be when Patrick finally left him. This is what it would feel like, bursts of pain beneath his skin, all encompassing.

“Even if something goes wrong, do you really think Chronos will allow him to stay in Paris? Don’t they send teams if you overstay your permit?”

“Yeah. Yes.” The concerned look on Stevie’s face increased his anxiety, and he couldn’t sit still anymore. He began to pace around the room, wringing his hands in the air, trying to shake the anxiety from his fingertips as his thoughts spiralled. “What if this is his way of telling me that our relationship isn’t going to work out? What if he wants out?”

“You think Patrick set up a bureaucratic error six months ago so he could end a relationship you hadn’t even started by going to a different time without you? Even for you that seems like a stretch.”

“Okay. Fine. You’re right.” Even with time travel, Patrick couldn’t predict the future. 

“What’s really going on? You don’t even know if something is wrong yet, why are you so upset?”

He stopped pacing in the middle of the room and stared at her. Overreacting was his default setting when he felt emotional or anxious, but even he knew he was taking this to another level. He pictured Patrick’s face, his warm brown eyes the color of whiskey, his hands, strong and steady, the look on his face when he’d told David he trusted him. 

“Oh god, I think I’m in love with him.” He slapped his fingers over his mouth as soon as he’d said it, as though that could take back what he’d said. Bewilderment etched on his face, he slowly lowered his hands. “I’m in love with him. What if he never comes back?”

“I’m sure everything will be fine. Patrick will be back tomorrow, right on schedule, and then you can tell him you love him.”

“You’re making things worse.” Loving Patrick was one thing, but telling him was another. He’d never said the words to anyone, or allowed himself to be so thoroughly exposed...what if Patrick didn’t love him back? It was better to love him silently without risking not being loved in return. He couldn’t give up loving Patrick if it turned out he didn’t feel the same way.

Stevie stayed with him until almost midnight, feeding him wine and chocolate and potato chips from a hidden stash somewhere in the motel office. He couldn’t give her a hard time about it even though she probably had an entire wine cellar concealed somewhere. 

After she left, he curled up on his bed and thought about Patrick, about the warmth in his brown eyes, even when David was at his most absurd, how he laughed, his entire face lighting up, how he knew when to push and when to give David space when something was too much. He couldn’t lose him now, not when they’d only known each other for such a short time. It was like The Lake House except their timelines were too far apart, they’d never be able to bring them back together. 

He laid awake until nearly two o’clock before drifting into an uneasy sleep. He dreamt of Patrick, lying beside him in bed, his chin on David’s chest, eyes sparkling as he made fun of David’s favourite sweater. He woke, and the warmth of the dream faded as reality emerged. He checked the time; it was only six o’clock but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep.

Patrick had left at eleven o’clock yesterday. It was one thing that Patrick had insisted on when they started traveling together, he’d liked the precision of leaving on the hour, saying that it made it easier to plan their schedule. At the time, David had smiled without arguing but now he was grateful to know the exact time he was waiting for.

Stevie knocked on his door at eight o’clock, much earlier than she ever would have dared to normally. She had brought him the entire box of cinnamon buns from the lobby but his appetite had vanished. His stomach was a hard knot, twisting inside him. She did her best to distract him, but by 10:30 he was checking his phone every thirty seconds and they’d run out of things to say. They sat on the twin beds opposite each other, staring at David’s phone as the minutes counted down towards eleven o’clock. With a minute to go, his gaze was riveted to the floor, Stevie’s hand grasped his tightly. His heart leapt into his throat as Patrick’s phone materialized, by itself, in the middle of the floor.

***

**Paris, 1924**

The world went white.

Patrick looked up to find himself on a busy Paris street. He could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

“David…?” He turned to look for David, but he was alone. Fear gripped him and he scanned the faces of the people around him, expecting that they’d gotten separated slightly by the crowds. There was no sign of David. 

He waited on the street corner for almost an hour, looking at every person who passed in hopes it would be David but it never was. Finally he resigned himself to the reality that something had gone wrong and that David had either been delayed or wasn’t coming. He thought about returning to 2019 to find out what had gone wrong, but the penalties for defaulting on a $40,000 contract would be extreme. With a sigh, he pulled out their itinerary and went to find the hotel.

He’d never been so grateful for David’s detailed itineraries as he was at that moment. He checked into the hotel and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the schedule and trying to decide what he should do. He wanted to wait, to stay here in this room in case David came to find him. Like being lost in the woods, he thought. But they had a contract to complete and if David wasn’t able to make it to Paris his job would be even more difficult.

He sighed and wrote out a quick note.

_David,_  
_I don’t know what’s happened but I’m going to follow the itinerary._  
_I hope I’ll see you soon._  
_Patrick_  
_xo_

He hesitated at the end, wanting to write ‘I love you’ but not wanting the first time he told David he loved him to be in a note that he might never see. He folded the note in half and wrote David’s name on the outside before taking it to the front desk and leaving it with the desk clerk. 

Outside, he checked his map to make sure he could find his way to the Stade Olympique Yves-du-Manoir where the main Olympic events were being held. Paris was a beautiful city, with the stone buildings and tree-lined streets made even more charming by the open-air cafes that were everywhere. David would love it here, he thought as he passed a group of laughing college-aged women in flapper clothing. 

It was hot and still. His stomach growled, hunger cutting through his worry about David. Across the street, a cafe crowded the sidewalk with tables and chairs. About half the tables were full of men and women laughing and smoking. He ordered a sandwich and a coffee at the counter and slipped into a chair near the outer part of the seating area. 

He read through his itinerary as he waited for his order. Someone called his name.

“Patrick?”

His heart leapt and he scanned the crowd for David but there was no sign of him. In the middle of the street he someone waved at him.

“Ken.” What on earth was he doing here? After he’d had the audacity to sell that photo of the two of them in New York to David’s ex?

“It’s good to see you.” He couldn’t say that he felt the same. After New York, he would have been happy to never see Ken again.

“Why are you here?” His lip curled and he forced his face into a neutral expression, smiling at Ken grimly. 

“I think I owe you an apology.” Ken shuffled awkwardly, looking somewhere over Patrick’s shoulder, unable to meet his eyes.

“Yeah, you do.” He crossed his arms and stared at Ken intently, hoping he would take the hint and leave. Instead, Ken grinned back at him cheerfully, seemingly oblivious. 

“I’m sorry about selling that photo from New York, I just got an offer I couldn’t refuse, I’m sure you know how that goes.” Ken smiled at him apologetically, and Patrick narrowed his eyes at him. 

“Mmm.” He didn’t really, but he didn’t want to drag out this conversation. Ken kept turning up repeatedly and after the incident with the photo, he didn’t trust him.

“Tell you what, how about I buy your lunch to show you how sorry I am?”

Before he could say anything, Ken jumped up and headed into the cafe. He returned a couple of minutes later with Patrick’s coffee and sandwich. Patrick took a gulp of the coffee; it was delicious, better than anything he’d ever had at home. Ken shifted uneasily in his seat as he finished the coffee before starting on his sandwich. He was about to make a pointed remark when everything started to go dark. The last memory he had was of Ken smiling at him as he collapsed on the table.

***

There was a hand caressing the side of his face. He leaned into it, cracking his eyes open. He felt fuzzy, like his brain was packed with cotton balls. A wall of skulls stared back at him. How much had he had to drink last night? His stomach churned and his head was pounding, like he was hungover and drunk at the same time. He squeezed his eyes shut and the hand returned, fingertips sensually tracing along his jawline. He forced his eyes open. Slowly, everything came back to him. Paris. David. Ken. A scruffy-looking man in an ugly wool sweater knelt in front of him. The man smiled at him; leering like an evil-looking used car salesman.

“We’ve never met but maybe David’s mentioned me? My name is Sebastien Raine.” The man stroked his fingers down Patrick’s face again. He flinched away, revolted.

“You son of a bitch.” He was weak, even forming the words was difficult. If he’d been able to sit up, he would have punched Sebastien in the face. He was propped up against a wall with his legs stretched out. The room was dim, almost dark, but the wall of skulls was real, their empty eyes gaped at him from across the room. It was the creepiest fucking thing he’d ever seen.

“He did mention me. How delightful. Did he cry when he told you about what we had together? Did you cry?” His desire to punch Sebastien increased, he clenched his fists and glared at him. Sebastien smirked at him as though he knew what he was thinking, his lips twisting in cruel enjoyment of Patrick’s anger.

“What do you want?” He remembered David crying into his shoulder as he talked about how Sebastien had used him. He glared at Sebastien before blinking away the white spots in his vision when Sebastien snapped his photo. 

“Oh, David didn’t tell you that part? What a shame. He has such issues with trust. I want your contract.” Sebastien sat back on his heels, considering. “And I want to hurt David Rose. You’re going to help me do both.”

“The contract’s already been executed, it’s too late to give it to you now.” He suspected the contract was a ruse, a way for Sebastien to get at David, the money a bonus to everything else.

“Oh, but if you default, then it will be available again. Forty thousand dollars is a lot of money. More than David deserves.” Sebastien was clearly pleased with himself. He stood up and leaned against the wall of skulls across from him. 

“You’re responsible for whatever caused David’s permit to malfunction.”

“No, actually, you are. I just took advantage of the timing. You were the one who messed up and issued that permit for David to go to London in 1694, I simply arranged for the consequences to be delayed until the appropriate time. It’s unfortunate that they’ve suspended him until all the paperwork is filed correctly. What a shame that you’re not there to help him with that. I understand you’re very helpful.”

“Fuck you.” Given David’s history of toxic relationships, he’d thought he’d been exaggerating how awful Sebastien was, but he didn’t think he’d ever hated anymore more. The room was small and dark, the only light from a lantern that someone had hung overhead. Tunnels stretched into the dark in two directions. 

“If you want. David thought I was a good fuck, once” Sebastien sneered at him. Involuntarily, Patrick twitched away, a shudder running through him. He closed his eyes to avoid Sebastien’s gaze.

“And Ken? What does he get out of this?” There was no question now that Ken and Sebastien were working together. When he’d first met him in Barcelona, he’d probably been trying to figure out how to use Patrick against David.

“What do we all get? A cut of the profits, of course. He’s so innocent looking, no one ever suspects.”

He felt a bit better; the nausea was receding. Maybe if he rushed Sebastien, he could get enough of a head start to get away from him. As he was thinking it, Sebastien held up his phone.

“Don’t even think about it. You can’t make it back to 2019 without this and besides the Paris catacombs are hundreds of miles long, you could wander for days if you don’t know the way.”

He probably wasn’t wrong. Patrick didn’t know how deep into the catacombs Sebastien had taken him or which way to even go to find the exit. He snarled at Sebastien. “So you’re going to leave me down here until the contract expires?”

“That’s right. We’ll bring you some food and water once in a while and Jake will keep an eye on you.” He gestured to the passageway where a tall, well-built man that Patrick hadn’t noticed stood with his arms crossed. Patrick thought he might have been the man who had accosted David at the Empire State Building but he couldn’t be sure.

He leaned his head back against the wall. Judging by the way it jabbed into his back, it was made of bones and skulls like the one opposite, but he didn’t want to turn his head to check. His skin crawled and he closed his eyes. Once the 24 hours had passed in 2019, Chronos would send an extraction team to find him. He pushed away the thought that they might never find him in the labyrinth of tunnels.

The hours dragged on. There was no way to tell time in the darkness of the tunnel. The walls of the small space pressed in on him and he worked to control his breathing, trying to keep the panic at bay. Without any sense of time, the only thing that broke up the monotony was when Jake and Sebastien would appear, sometimes with food and water. With nothing to do, he spent most of his time sitting with his eyes closed, thinking about David. 

David watching Mariah Carey, his face alight with joy before he kissed him for the first time. 

David’s hand, soft against his cheek. 

David in bed beside him, teasing him. 

He choked back the thought that he might never see David again. 

Sebastien might just leave him down here and even if he made his way out of the tunnels, he had no way to get home. At least the past few months had been the happiest months of his life. He held onto the thought of David like a lifeline, trying to block out everything else.

He thought about Barcelona and Florence and London, replaying the memories so many times they were like a child’s favorite book, he had every scene memorized. He lost all track of time, daytime or nighttime, days of the week had become meaningless. He was lost in the memory of the last date that he and David had gone on before they’d taken this contract when Sebastien showed up, Patrick’s phone in one hand.

“There’s been a small change of plans. Getting that contract is no longer an option but there are a few things I’d like David to do for me, so we’ll be keeping you here a little while longer.”

He growled at Sebastien, glaring from his spot on the floor. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take. He flinched constantly as the shadows flickered in the dim light and sometimes there were strange noises in the distance that startled him awake. He didn’t know if they were real or not. 

“You’ll be happy to know that the week is officially up.” Sebastien placed Patrick’s phone on the floor between them. Even from the other side of the room, he could see the photo of David that he’d set as his lock screen. A lump formed in his throat as the time on the phone changed from 10:59 to 11:00 and his phone returned to 2019 without him.

**Schitt’s Creek, 2019**

David sat on the bed, Patrick’s phone cradled in his hands. He’d been sitting there for hours now, holding the phone and hoping something would happen. Stevie called Ray when the phone had appeared without Patrick and Ray had assured her that a team from Chronos was on their way. 

He felt numb. Stevie had given up trying to talk to him about an hour ago. She alternated between sitting beside him and pacing around the room. At the moment, she was on the other side of the room, pacing between the bathroom and the outside door. A knock at the door made them both jump.

Stevie opened it to reveal a tall, blond man in a gray suit. He had a short buzz cut and his arms bulged in his sleeves as though he should compete in athletic competitions. He looked past Stevie to where David sat on the bed.

“David Rose?” At David’s nod, he continued. “Brent Gustavson, I’m the regional lead with the Chronos Search Team. I was hoping you could tell me about Patrick Brewer.”

He nodded jerkily and Stevie sat beside him. Brent carried himself like someone who got things done. He was the kind of guy you would want to send on a rescue mission. He was David’s last hope.

“Tell me what happened.”

Telling this story made him tired. Couldn’t Ray or Stevie or someone else tell this person what had happened? Shouldn’t Brent be in Paris trying to find Patrick instead of here talking to David? He thought about what Patrick would want him to do. Patrick would want him to tell the story. Patrick would say that the man knew how to do his job and that telling him the story would help. He took a deep breath and told him about the contract and the error with the 1694 permit and his suspension. 

“...and then Patrick didn’t come back.” His voice cracked when he said Patrick’s name and Stevie put her arm around his shoulder.

“Is Mr Brewer prone to making spontaneous decisions?”

“What?” Did this person think Patrick had suddenly decided to stay in Paris without telling him? “No, Patrick is the opposite of spontaneous. He stayed in a relationship with a woman for ten years because he couldn’t admit he was gay. That’s probably too much information and it’s not helpful, but he’s the responsible one, he finishes all the paperwork and he always returns his library books on time and he keeps me from making bad decisions. He’s the reliable one.”

“Okay.” Brent made some notes in his phone. “I understand that he hadn’t time traveled on his own very much?”

“Just once or twice, we always traveled together.” Maybe he should have encouraged Patrick to travel on his own, working together had probably been a mistake. David put his head in his hands and stared at the floor.

“So it’s possible that when you didn’t arrive in 1924, that he might have lost his phone or made some other mistake that prevented him from coming back on time?”

“Yeah. It’s possible.” Maybe that was all that had happened. A rookie mistake had kept Patrick from coming back from 1924. He clung to the thread of hope, even as he feared something else had happened.

“One more question. Do you have a list of locations that the two of you planned to visit in Paris?”

He nodded and handed over the printed copy of the itinerary he’d prepared for their trip. The guy from Chronos raised his eyebrows. 

“This is very thorough.”

David shrugged, he’d learned the hard way that detailed plans made time travel easier.

“This should give us a good start to finding him.” He clapped David on the shoulder and stood up to leave.

“Our team will be back in 24 hours. We’ll contact you again by three o’clock tomorrow at the latest.”

Stevie followed the man from Chronos outside and he could hear them talking outside for a few minutes before she returned, shutting the door behind her.

“What was that?”

“I wanted him to know that Patrick wouldn’t run off to another time to end your relationship. That he’d never take the coward’s way out of anything.”

“Thanks.”

Stevie was a good friend. Better than he deserved, probably. She might be the only friend he had if Patrick never came back. He felt sick and he laid back on the bed and closed his eyes. The stress and lack of sleep caught up to him. Without meaning to, he fell asleep, drifting away to the quiet blackness.

He woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing. On the other bed, Stevie scrolled through her phone. His brain felt groggy, the short sleep had made him feel worse. 

“What time is it?”

“Almost five o’clock.”

He picked up the phone from the bed, wanting to check his messages. His own photo stared back at him from Patrick’s phone. He winced, the fear reforming inside him, filling up all the spaces with hot and cold needles. He fumbled around until he found his own phone, the photo of Patrick doing nothing to soothe his nerves. He opened the text, his heart sinking even further when he read the message and photo from Sebastien.

**Sebastien:** I’ve got something you want, you’ve got something I want. Let’s trade.

He opened the photo. It was a closeup of Patrick, glaring at the camera. His heart skipped a beat. After Sebastien had spread his nude photos of David all over New York, he’d thought he’d known how to hate him, but he’d barely scratched the surface of what hate could be. He would find Patrick. He would find Sebastien and punch him in the face and dip him in acid and rip his pretentious, artificially worn clothing to pieces. 

**David:** What do you want?  
**Sebastien:** Come to Paris and find out.

Exhaustion was the only reason he slept that night. Thankfully, he didn’t dream of Patrick, but he woke not feeling any better than he had before he’d gone to sleep. He looked over at Alexis’s bed only to see Stevie, curled up and still asleep. After he’d read Sebastien’s text, he’d given up, curling into a ball and trying to ignore the way his heartbeat was tattooing Patrick’s name into his skin.

He was trying to figure out what to do when the door burst open, bringing the unwelcome shock of sunlight and his sister.

“David? Stevie? What’s going on?” Alexis had returned from her latest tour. Unlike when he traveled as a contractor, her tour groups always gathered at the library in Elmdale so that all the tour participants could leave together. 

He held back the desire to hurl himself into her arms. He must have been more worried than he’d realized if he was hoping for a hug from his sister. “Patrick’s missing.”

Alexis came to sit by him on the bed. “What do you mean, ‘missing’?”

“He went to Paris in 1924 and he hasn’t come back.” He blinked back the tears. He’d thought he’d cried himself out last night, but apparently his ability to cry had been restored by the small amount of sleep he’d had.

“Well, why didn’t you go with him?”

“Alexis...” The desire to hug her was rapidly fading. 

In the other bed, Stevie had woken up and sat up against Alexis’s pillows. “David’s been suspended and we think Sebastien has Patrick.”

“Oh my god, David! How could you let this happen!” Alexis’s face was wide with shock. How could he have let this happen? He never should have encouraged Patrick to time travel with him. He should never have let things with Sebastien get away from him.

“Alexis!” This time it was Stevie who had had enough of his sister. She stared at Alexis from the bed, a warning clear in her eyes.

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll help you.”

“What if I don’t want your help?” He knew he was being difficult. Obviously he needed all the help he could get, especially since he couldn’t travel to 1924 because of his suspension. Usually he was the one who helped Alexis as she swanned around the world, playing with drug lords and the sons of dictators. Having her help him didn’t feel like anything he’d done before. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

“David.” Stevie nodded at Alexis. “We might need all the help we can get. Chronos is looking for him now, they’re supposed to check in by three o’clock.” She directed this last statement to Alexis.

“I don’t think I can wait that long.” It was only nine o’clock. He laid back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, he wanted Patrick more than he ever would have thought possible. Three o’clock was an eternity away.

“You have to wait for Chronos to get back.”

He shook his head at Stevie, not wanting to admit she might be right. He desperately wanted to get to Paris, to find out where Sebastien was holding Patrick and bring him home.

“We can’t risk screwing up their search. Besides, what if you go there and he comes back with them, you’ll still be separated.”

It was the last part that convinced him more than his faith in Chronos. If he went to Paris and Patrick came back here, he knew that Patrick would try to go back again to find him, they could end up leapfrogging pointlessly back and forth through time.

“But…” Stevie hadn’t finished. “...that doesn’t mean we can’t make a plan.”

It was a quarter to three when the knock came on the door. They’d been around and around their plan all day and had worked out what they would do when they got to Paris and how they would search for Patrick. There was just one obstacle they hadn’t been able to overcome, how to remove David’s suspension so he could travel to 1924. 

Stevie opened the door to find the guy from Chronos outside. David thought he should remember his name, but he didn’t care enough to try. All he cared about was Patrick.

“I don’t have good news.” At least he was direct, not trying to soften the blow. “We could confirm that Mr Brewer checked into the hotel. After that? We weren’t able to find any sign of him. I’ve left a few people there to continue the search.” 

It wasn’t a surprise, but his heart shattered into a million pieces. So many pieces that there was nothing but sand remaining. One strong wind and it might all blow away.

“Is there...can you...is there anything you can do about my suspension?”

The guy from Chronos was sympathetic. “That’s outside my area, I’m afraid. But I’ll make a recommendation, see if they can speed things up. I’ll be in touch if anything changes.” David almost told him about the text from Sebastien before he decided against it. Who knew what Sebastien would do to Patrick if he found out David had told Chronos about him?

He left the room, pulling the door shut softly behind him. David sank back onto his bed. He wanted to pull the covers over his head. Only the thought of Patrick prevented him from doing just that.

“Now what? You could go look for him without me.” His voice cracked and he thought he might lose his mind if he had to sit and wait while they went without him. Alexis pursed her lips and tapped her finger on the tabletop thoughtfully. 

“I have an idea.” She got up and put on her shoes. “I have to talk to Ray.”

“I already talked to Ray. Ray can’t do anything!” Why was Alexis wasting her time thinking about Ray when they had to get to 1924? Every frustration he’d ever had with her came back to him, colliding inside him like a car crash.

“Wait here. Don’t do anything without me.” Alexis ran out the door, slamming it behind her.

“Alexis!”

He was sick of waiting for people. Waiting for Patrick to return, waiting for Chronos to report in and now, waiting for his sister to come back from whatever fruitless idea had taken her to Ray’s. It was only half an hour but it felt like two days had passed when Alexis finally burst back into the room, waving a time travel permit at him.

“What’s that?” He gestured to the paper in her hand.

“It’s a tour permit for 1924 Paris.” Alexis grinned at him. He scowled back at her. Whatever permit she’d gotten was meaningless, he still wasn’t able to travel.

“Okay, but I can’t travel, I’m suspended, remember?”

“You’re suspended as a contractor. You can still travel as a tourist. Tourists don’t have individual numbers, they all travel under my permit.”

He hugged her this time, laughing as he spun her in a circle and Stevie stared at them both like they’d lost their minds. A feeling of relief washed through him. He could go to Paris. He could find Patrick and bring him home. He wanted to leave that second, but Stevie and Alexis talked him into double-checking the plan. 

“Do you have Patrick’s phone? He’ll need it to get home.” It was the third time Alexis had asked.

“Yes. And the itinerary. And the photos of Patrick.” They weren’t bringing anything else. If they needed something they’d get it when they were there. 

“Okay, before we leave, I’m required to inform you of the rules of being a time tourist.”

“Alexis…” They didn’t have time for this, but as he expected, she ignored him, reading from her phone.

“First, any photographs, videos or souvenirs that you acquire during your trip are for your personal use and may not be sold or traded to any other person.”

He couldn’t deal with this right now. He didn’t care about the rules for time traveling tourists. Chronos couldn’t suspend him any more than he already was. But Alexis insisted on reading the rest of the rules.

“Second, you agree to keep any interactions with local residents to a minimum during your trip.”

“Third, you agree to restrict any mentions or conversations about the future to secure locations where you cannot be overhead by local residents.”

“Fourth…”

“How many of these are there?” Even though it wouldn’t make any difference to when they arrived, he wanted to leave, he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Just a few more. Fourth, all modern technology or accoutrements should be kept hidden at all times.”

“Fifth, you may not knowingly interact with any person who has historical significance to you or the world as a whole with the intent of changing the future. Remember. The future cannot be changed.”

“Sixth…”

“Okay, I think we’re done.” He glared at his sister until she put down her phone and glared back at him.

“Fine. But don’t blame me if we get there and you break all the rules.”

Alexis entered the code into her phone. Unlike when he and Patrick traveled together, Alexis’s code synced their phones together and a ten second countdown appeared on the screen. He watched the numbers get smaller and smaller.

Everything went white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not familiar with the Paris Catacombs, it's worth googling them to see how seriously creepy they are. My apologies to Patrick for trapping him there.


	7. Paris, 1924 (II)

**Paris, 1924**

David tried to get his bearings on the busy Paris street. There were people everywhere, most of them wearing the wonderful flapper fashions that marked the era. Someone retched behind him. He turned to find Stevie, doubled-over with Alexis looking concerned as she rubbed her back.

“Are you okay? Oh my god, you get time sick.” Time sickness was thought to be similar to motion sickness, although no one knew why some people suffered and others didn’t. “That’s why you don’t time travel. Why did you come?”

Even ashen-faced, Stevie still glared at him. “You needed me to...I wanted to...he’s my friend too!”

He couldn’t process the idea of having a friend like Stevie, not while he was holding back all of his worry for Patrick.

“Just give me a minute.” Stevie whispered before turning away to puke again. “It’ll pass.”

Stevie finally indicated that she was ready to go. She was pale and slightly green, but she was upright and the nausea seemed to have passed. They headed for Patrick’s hotel, the Chronos team said he’d checked in so it was as good a place to start as any.

At the hotel, Stevie collapsed gratefully into a chair in the lobby while he and Alexis went to the front desk. 

“Hi. Do you have a Patrick Brewer registered?”

The clerk flipped through the registration cards on his desk. “We do, sir.”

“Can you tell me his room number?” David desperately needed to get into Patrick’s room to see if there was any sign of where he might have gone.

“I’m sorry, sir, we don’t reveal information about our guests.” The clerk looked down his nose at him. David wanted to punch him. He tried to think like Patrick. What would Patrick have done when he’d arrived without him? He turned back to the clerk. 

“Is there a message for me?”

“Your name, sir?” The clerk made it sound like David’s presence was defiling his hotel.

“David Rose.” Without saying anything, the clerk reached into one of the mailboxes behind the desk, Room 203, David noted to himself and handed him a folded piece of paper, on the outside in bold letters was his name in Patrick’s handwriting. 

_David,_   
_I don’t know what’s happened but I’m going to follow the itinerary._   
_I hope I’ll see you soon._   
_Patrick_   
_xo_

He stared at the xo letters that Patrick had written after his name, tracing them softly with his index finger. There was a lump in his throat. Beside him, Alexis patted his shoulder awkwardly. 

“I wish we could get into his room, but there’s no way that guy will give us a key.” He nodded towards the clerk who was eyeing them suspiciously. 

“I don’t need a key. Room 203, right?” Alexis went to help Stevie out of her chair. The clerk had disappeared into the back room and Alexis pushed them all towards the stairs. 

Room 203 was at the end of the hall. Alexis bent to look at the lock before pulling two hat pins out of her hair. “Keep watch.” She bent down and began to pick the lock.

“How do you know how to pick locks?” He stared at his sister in astonishment.

“Quiet, David.” Seconds later, she made a satisfied noise and the door swung open. “You don’t escape from an Ecuadorian compound without learning a few tricks.”

Inside, it was obvious that Patrick had only been here long enough to leave his bag. Still, David pulled it open and began to rifle through it. 

“What are you doing?” Stevie opened the curtains to let more light into the room. 

“We might not get back here, I want to make sure he didn’t leave anything important behind.” Satisfied that everything in Patrick’s bag could be abandoned, he turned back to Stevie and Alexis. Stevie looked better now, some color had returned to her face. 

“Patrick said he would follow the itinerary. I think we should go towards the Stade Olympique Yves-du-Manoir to see if he made it that far.” He couldn’t think about the possibility that they might not find any clues about where Patrick had been. Sebastien would find them eventually, but if they could find Patrick first...he didn’t even let himself consider that Sebastien had tricked them into coming here.

He pulled the photos of Patrick that he’d printed out of his pocket and handed one each to Alexis and Stevie.

They made their way towards the stadium, stopping at cafes along the way to see if Patrick might have had lunch or coffee, but with little success. He was about to give up hope when he came to a large outdoor cafe. He showed the photo to the waitress. She looked at it and nodded, before saying something in French. Helplessly, he gestured that he didn’t speak French until a guy at the counter took pity on him.

“She says she saw your friend about a week ago. He was with someone.” His stomach dropped. Who could Patrick have possibly been with? Had he met with Sebastien here?

“Can she describe the other person?” An exchange of French occurred. 

“A small man, dark hair...with…” The man paused, trying to remember the word. He made circles from his fingers and held his hands up to his eyes. 

“Glasses?” 

“Oui, glasses. She says she remembers because your friend ordered and then the other man came later and insisted on paying for his meal but didn’t order anything of his own.”

Not Sebastien, someone else. Who else would Patrick have met? His heart sank. It sounded like the guy who’d taken the selfie with Patrick in New York. What was he doing here? Had he and Patrick arranged to meet here? Had Patrick been lying to him this entire time? Maybe Patrick wasn’t missing at all. He pressed his fingers to his lips. He trusted Patrick, he reminded himself. However this guy was involved, it wasn’t because of anything that Patrick had done. 

He knew he shouldn’t, but he pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened up the picture that Sebastien had sent him. Ignoring the amazed looks the man and the waitress were giving his phone, he pointed at the photo.

“Is that him?”

“Oui. They were both here.” There was more French from the server.

“They didn’t stay long. When she went to check on them, they were gone.”

He sank into one of the chairs at one of the outdoor tables. That Patrick had been here with that other guy made him feel ill. His anxiety vibrated through him; tears pricked in his eyes as the worry he’d been holding on to started to leak out.

“We’ll find him.” Stevie sat down across from him. He raised his head. Stevie’s face was soft and determined, she patted his hand. “Patrick’s in trouble and he needs you to hold it together right now.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Okay.”

Just then, he glimpsed a familiar wool sweater. Across the street, Sebastien leaned casually against a building as he stared in their direction. The sight of him made David angrier than he’d ever been. Even after the time Sebastien had published those photos of him online, he hadn’t been this angry. He pushed back his chair and it scraped on the paving stones.

“Wait here.” He threaded his way through the tables and chairs of the cafe and ran across the street, not paying any attention to the other people or cars on the roadway. Sebastien watched him walk across the street, his lips twisted derisively.

“Where is he?” His hands were shaking, he clenched them into fists so Sebastien wouldn’t notice.

Sebastien smirked at him and David wanted to smash him against the wall. He couldn’t believe he’d ever thought his smug face was attractive. 

“Where’s Patrick?”

“Oh, he’s somewhere safe. I just need you to do me a small favor before you see him again.”

“I can’t sign the contract over to you, it’s expired.”

“I know, and Chronos has frozen it.” Sebastien’s smile broke, revealing the anger he’d kept hidden. “I can’t salvage the contract, but you still need to give me something to get your boyfriend back.” Sebastien spat the words at him and David stepped back. This was more emotion than Sebastien had shown the entire time they were together. Sebastien handed him a photo of a classic Cartier panther brooch, encrusted in diamonds. “Cartier is unveiling their newest collection this afternoon. You’re going to get this brooch for me.” 

He glared at Sebastien, but he took the photo. “Fine.” He’d do whatever it took to get Patrick back, and Sebastien knew it.

Sebastien sneered at him. He shoved his hands into his pockets and sauntered down the street. Halfway down the block he turned back. “Eight o’clock. Don’t be late.”

They agreed that Alexis and Stevie would keep asking questions about Patrick while David went to Cartier, meeting back at the hotel room by five o’clock. Reluctantly, he set out to walk across the city to the Cartier store, hating that he couldn’t keep searching for Patrick. 

Getting the brooch took all afternoon. Back at the hotel, he knocked on the door of Patrick’s room, hoping Stevie and Alexis had already returned and that he wouldn’t have to linger in the hall until Alexis could pick the lock again. The door opened right away and Stevie greeted him with a grin. “Did you get it?”

He nodded and pulled the brooch out of his pocket to show her. The brooch had been the last item to be revealed by Cartier and he’d almost convinced himself that Sebastien was toying with him. 

“Well, hopefully, you won’t need it, because we’ve got something for you.” She stood aside to reveal the man that the waitress had seen with Patrick. He sat nervously on the end of the bed, obviously ill at ease as Alexis stared at him intently from a nearby chair.

“He showed up at the cafe not long after you left so we _encouraged_ him to come back here with us. He says his name is Ken.”

“You.” Ken’s terrified eyes met his, before skipping away to stare at the floor. He shrunk into himself as David approached the bed.

David didn’t think of himself as aggressive or intimidating, but he was a lot bigger than Ken. He leaned over him and Ken angled his body away from him, glancing nervously at Alexis who was playing with a phone she’d taken to prevent Ken from time traveling. He shrugged at his sister.

“Why’s he so scared of you?” 

“I may have told him about the time I learned how to kill a man with my bare hands from that drug lord in the Philippines.” 

He grinned at her. All the times he’d rescued Alexis he’d never imagined the skills she’d gained would be useful. He turned back to Ken. “Are you working with Sebastien?” He leaned closer, pleased to see Ken cringe away from him.

Ken’s eyes flitted around the room, searching for a safe place to land before settling on David’s shoes. “Yes.” 

Relief and anger crested inside him. He released the tendril of fear that he’d been holding on to that Patrick had been lying to him about Ken. A sudden thought occurred to him. “Wait. How did you always know where we were?”

Ken leaned even further away from David. His voice was a mumble, but David could still make out the words. “I work for Chronos.”

David glared at him for a long moment. “You messed up my permit.” Ken nodded, his face was pale. “Why does Sebastien care, anyway?” It wasn’t as though Sebastien had cared about anything David did when they were together.

Ken squirmed on the bed, his hands twisting into the beige comforter. “He and Michelle had a...thing.” Knowing both of them, David could just imagine how toxic that had been. 

“Okay, so?”

“So, Michelle had promised him the contract, but then he posted a bunch of photos of her online. To get back at him, she said she was giving the contract to you.” Ken couldn’t get the words out fast enough. Great, David thought to himself. This whole thing was because he and Patrick were caught between two people who hated him. Making him suffer was probably an added bonus for them both. He narrowed his eyes at Ken and took a deep breath.

“You’re going to take us to Patrick. Now.”

Ken led them through the streets of Paris. Alexis and Stevie insisted on walking on either side of him, their arms linked with his. Every time Alexis spoke to Ken, he twitched away from her, his shoulders tense. Finally, they stopped in front of a nondescript black building. He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door, directing them inside. 

Inside, a locked iron gate blocked the top of a stone staircase that descended into the darkness.

“The Catacombs…” Stevie’s voice was a whisper but it echoed in the tiny building.

“Fuck. You’ve been keeping Patrick here for a week?” That Patrick had been stuck underground for a week in one of the most sinister and ghoulish places in Paris made his stomach turn.

Ken refused to look at anyone, taking out a second key to unlock the gate and picking up a kerosene lantern off of a hook on the wall and lighting it. They followed him down into the dark. At the bottom of the stairs, tunnels branched in several directions. The flickering light of the lantern made the human skulls and bones embedded in the walls even more ghastly than he could have imagined. Alexis took Ken’s arm to keep him close in case he abandoned them down here. If they got lost, they’d never be able to find their way out or even worse, find Patrick.

He didn’t know how long they walked. It could have been minutes or hours or even days. The endless sight of skulls and bones became monotonous, a nauseating blur replaced the horror that had come from seeing the macabre arrangements for the first time. They came around a corner to an open room. Sebastien stood in the middle of the room with his back to them. David’s stomach clenched at the sight of him. Patrick sat against the far wall, his face was white and drawn, his eyes were hollow. He was the best thing David had ever seen.

Patrick’s eyes met his and they stared at each other for a long moment before a look of naked relief washed across Patrick’s face. With a snarl, Patrick leapt to his feet and punched Sebastien squarely in the face. There was a satisfying crunching noise as Patrick’s fist connected and Sebastien crumpled to the ground, his hands clutching his broken nose. Patrick stepped over him, his eyes hard and determined as he launched himself into David’s arms.

David wrapped his arms around Patrick and buried his face in his shoulder. Patrick’s hands grasped at the back of his sweater. He hugged Patrick tighter, unsure who was comforting who at this point. Patrick let out a huge shuddering sigh and tucked his face into the side of David’s neck, his lips pressing softly before he tried to burrow closer. Tears formed in David’s eyes and he squeezed them shut, determined that he wouldn’t give Sebastien the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

They swayed together. Behind him, Stevie and Alexis spoke to Sebastien and Ken. Unfortunately, Patrick hadn’t knocked Sebastien out cold, his slimy voice slid into David’s thoughts. 

Everything inside him was raw and singed, like a fire had burnt through him. In his arms, Patrick was solid and real, but he never wanted to let him go for fear that releasing him would make him disappear. He tried to hold him tighter and Patrick responded by pressing even closer to him. He might never leave this place. He might have to stay here forever so he’d never have to let Patrick go. Alexis’s voice broke through his consciousness. 

“David. David. David!”

Reluctantly, he lifted his head from Patrick’s shoulder and opened his eyes. His sister stood in front of him, hands on her hips. 

“Do you have Patrick’s phone?”

While he’d been lost in Patrick, Jake had joined them. He and Ken were off to one side of the room with Stevie, while Sebastien was still sitting on the floor where he’d landed after Patrick had punched him. Alexis stood over Sebastien, holding four different phones in her hands.

“You can’t use one of those?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I need to sync it to my tour permit so we can all get out of here. Unless you’re planning to stay.”

He felt Patrick flinch against him at the idea of staying here. Slowly, he let go of Patrick, keeping a hand on his shoulder, unwilling to be entirely separated from him. He reached into his pocket and handed his and Patrick’s phones to his sister. 

Alexis fiddled with Patrick’s phone for a minute and then passed the phones around to everyone. She tried to hand one to Sebastien, but he refused to take it. Blood coated his sweater. David felt a grim satisfaction that he’d never be able to wear it again.

Alexis thrust the phone back at him. “We will leave you here in the dark.” Sebastien glared at her, but he took the phone.

The timer on David’s phone counted down from ten seconds. He just had time to take Patrick’s hand when the world went white.

**Schitt’s Creek**

It took some time to sort everything out when they returned home. Stevie called Brent from Chronos and he came to collect Sebastien, Ken and Jake although he refused to say what would happen to them. Once Stevie recovered from her time sickness, she and Alexis insisted on replaying the entire trip when all David wanted was to be alone with Patrick. 

Patrick had been quiet since they’d returned, after he’d had a shower, he’d leaned against David on his bed, their fingers entwined. He let out a soft whine when David got up to use the washroom. 

He came back and bent down to whisper in Patrick’s ear. “Let’s go.” He glanced over to where Alexis and Stevie had broken out the wine and were bonding in a way they never had before.

Patrick’s car was still parked outside the motel. It felt like weeks since they’d tried to go to Paris for the first time even though it had only been a couple of days. Of course, it had been longer for Patrick. He sat in the driver’s seat, his hands clenched on the steering wheel. David pressed his hand to Patrick’s cheek and he leaned into the touch. 

“David…” It was a sigh. 

“Let’s go home. To Ray’s. Wherever. We can talk there.”

“Yeah.” Once he’d backed the car out of the motel parking lot, Patrick reached for his hand, gripping it desperately. They didn’t say anything for the short ride to Ray’s, but Patrick’s hand holding his so tightly that his fingers were tingling.

Ray was getting into his car when they pulled up. 

“Oh Patrick! You’ve returned. That is good news!” As always, Ray was genuinely delighted to see them and he was oblivious to the haunted look on Patrick’s face. “Regretfully, I have a conference in Elm Valley this weekend so I can’t stay and chat. We’ll catch up when I get back.

David let out a breath, grateful that they’d have the place to themselves.

Patrick led him inside, David locked the door behind them and prepared himself for the conversation they were about to have. He was about to speak when Patrick slammed him against the door, kissing him fiercely. He let Patrick deepen the kiss, let him nip and lick at his lips even as his own arousal grew. It was hard to concentrate but he forced himself to cup Patrick’s face in his hands so he could put some space between them. 

“Wait. Wait…are you sure you want to do this now? Shouldn’t we talk about what happened?” The wild look in Patrick’s eyes told David that he would have to be the responsible one.

“Want you first. We can talk after.” Patrick’s hands slipped under the waistband of his pants, teasing at the top of his ass. All the thoughts of talking left him, leaving him with a rush of desire for Patrick. 

“Okay. Yeah. Upstairs. We’re not doing this in Ray’s front entrance.” Patrick whined at him, but he let David push him up the stairs. 

In Patrick’s room, he pulled Patrick into his arms, Patrick clutched at his back, his fists pulling and stretching his sweater. It was Givenchy, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Shhh.” He kissed him softly, running his thumbs along Patrick’s cheekbones, if only he had some under eye serum to take away the bags that were there. Patrick released some of his desperation, the kiss was softer than before, slowly Patrick began to explore his mouth, nibbling at his lips and teasing him, licking softly at his lower lip until David let him inside. 

As the kiss went on Patrick finally started to relax, the edge of his desperate neediness fading a little. Patrick slid his hands under David’s sweater, pulling it up over his head. He gave David an ironic look before turning to fold it and set it on the chair by the door. He pulled off his own sweater and tossed it on top of David’s. 

Patrick walked David backwards until his knees hit the edge of the bed. Pushing him down, Patrick straddled him. David ran his hands up Patrick’s thighs, resting them against the bare skin at the top of his jeans.

“I missed you so much. I thought...there was a chance I might never see you again.” There was a sob underneath Patrick’s words. David surged up to him, kissing him frantically, his own desperation just beneath the surface. 

“Show me…show me how much you missed me.”

He heard Patrick swallow. His eyes were dark. “Yeah.” 

Patrick pushed him back down on the bed, running his hands over David’s chest, stroking and exploring like he’d never seen David’s body before. It was erotic and embarrassing; it made him want to twitch and hide. He turned his face to hide it in the pillow, only to feel Patrick’s fingers on his chin, turning his head to look at him.

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

His blush covered his entire body; he tingled at the words. He closed his eyes, unable to look at Patrick. 

“David. Look at me. Please.” Patrick’s voice cracked a little, betraying the fact that he was faking his confidence. He let his fingers wander across David’s chest almost aimlessly before leaning down to follow his fingers with his mouth, leaving sloppy kisses across his stomach. He tangled his fingers in Patrick’s short hair, drawing him up to kiss him again. 

He whimpered a little when Patrick sat up suddenly, falling back as he kicked off his jeans before tugging on David’s. He sat up to help him, the unwanted clothes ending up in a pile on the floor. Patrick pushed at him and he crawled up the bed until Patrick could settle between his legs. 

Patrick pressed against him, his cock was hard and leaking, David’s hips twitched in response as they came together. Patrick kissed him, hot and hard, before lowering his head to kiss down David’s neck. He brought his arms up to hold him close, wanting as much contact as possible. Patrick’s mouth has moved lower, licking and teasing at David’s nipples.

“Fuck...Patrick...more, I need more.”

His back arched as Patrick bit him gently, his nipple tight and hard as Patrick sucked on it. Patrick slid his hand between them, grasping both of them together, moving them against each other before fumbling in the bedside table for the lube. Patrick’s slick hand took hold of them both again and he moaned at the feel of their cocks moving together. Patrick’s teeth grazed against his shoulder and he writhed against the feel of it, his body was on fire.

Patrick moved lower, kissing along his stomach, making him shiver before he took the head of David’s cock in his mouth, teasing him softly with his tongue. He gripped the sheets, stopping himself from thrusting upwards into Patrick’s mouth, losing himself in the feel of Patrick’s lips and tongue and throat on his cock, the rhythm of it quickly taking over his ability to think coherently. His cock hit the back of Patrick’s throat and he came, spilling down his throat.

He pulled Patrick up for a kiss, tasting himself on Patrick’s lips. He reached for Patrick’s cock but Patrick stilled his hand. 

“I want to come inside you.” 

“Yeah, yes, god, I want that too.” 

Patrick grabbed a condom, rolling it on before kissing his way back down David’s body. 

He relaxed as Patrick worked him open, Patrick’s lubed fingers were shaking, from anticipation or relief or some other emotion that David couldn’t identify. There was a waterfall of feelings inside him, relief and love were mixed with the intensity of wanting Patrick. His body shook with ecstasy and arousal and everything was Patrick. 

Patrick’s fingers were deep inside him, making him moan and writhe even as Patrick bit and sucked a hickey on to his collarbone, the sharp pain bringing his emotion and arousal into focus. He was hard again, his hips rose off the bed, seeking friction.

“More...Patrick...more.” 

Patrick kissed him, hard and searching before sliding his fingers free. He added some lube to his cock and pushed inside David in one smooth stroke, pausing as he bottomed out inside him. Patrick’s face was so open, David thought he could lose himself there. It was almost too much; he needed a physical sensation to counterbalance the onslaught of emotion.

“Move...you can move...please…” He begged and slowly, so slowly, Patrick began to pull back before thrusting inside him again, lighting him up inside. It wasn’t enough, he needed more. As if he could sense it, Patrick’s rhythm began to increase until finally it was what David needed. Patrick was panting, his eyes fixed on David’s until, with a cry, his rhythm faltered and he came, David’s own release following moments later.

Patrick collapsed on top of him, his face buried in David’s shoulder, lips pressed to his neck as his breathing slowed. He withdrew from David slowly, making them both whine, before tossing the used condom in the garbage and going to the bathroom for a cloth to clean them both up. With a final sigh, Patrick wrapped himself around David, tangling their fingers and legs together and pulling the covers over them as they drifted to sleep.

***

It was dark outside when they woke up, Patrick’s phone was on the other side of the room so he couldn’t see the time, but he thought it was late. Exhaustion settled over him, making his body slow and heavy. He wanted more sleep, but they needed to talk first. David stirred beside him, reaching to turn off the bedside lamp.

“Leave it on.”

David turned to look at him, a question in his eyes. Whatever he saw in Patrick’s face made him nod and and he pulled his hand back from the light switch.

“The dark reminds me of Paris.” 

Patrick bit his lip at the confession and dropped his eyes from David’s. The darkness was unbearable now. It made him tense and nauseous, images from the Paris catacombs flickering behind his eyes. David moved closer to him on the bed, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. He slid his hands along David’s arms, interweaving their fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me Sebastien was still threatening you?” It felt like a betrayal that David hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him about Sebastien. He thought about what might have been avoided if only he’d known. Then again, neither of them had suspected Ken, so maybe nothing would have changed.

David froze, his body tense against Patrick’s back. David’s breath caught and Patrick stroked a hand up David’s arm, wrapping his fingers around his wrist. 

“Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me?” He was completely in love with David and it hurt to think he might not feel the same way. David tried to pull away from his grip, but Patrick caught at his hands, holding him in place. 

“No.” His voice was sharper than he meant it to be. “I’m not letting you run, not from me, not now.” Before Paris he might have let David hide from this conversation, but not this time. He needed to know what was preventing David from trusting him.

David’s lips pressed softly at the edge of his bare shoulder. For a long moment he wasn’t sure if David would say anything and then he began to speak, very quietly. “I’ve never trusted anyone before.” There was a long pause and David swallowed roughly. “Everyone eventually betrays me. When things get complicated, that’s when people leave and I didn’t want it to be complicated with you. I didn’t want to give you a reason to leave.” David’s lips returned to his shoulder, unmoving against his skin.

He could feel David’s breath, hot against his neck, his breaths quick and short. Needing to see David’s face, he rolled over so they were nose to nose. Settled again, he reclaimed David’s hand, pressing a kiss onto his knuckles. He’d wanted to say the words since Florence, maybe even before then. He’d been holding them back, keeping them tucked away to keep David from getting scared. But maybe, he realized now, David had always been scared. And maybe it was better for him to be afraid of this than to panic about whether Patrick would leave him.

“I love you, David.” He didn’t know if David would ever say it back to him, but he needed to say the words out loud to let David know how he felt. “There’s no reason you could give me that would make me leave.”

A tear drifted across David’s cheek and he reached his hand to brush it away. There was a long pause. He could see David struggling to say something, he pressed his lips together, blinking away more tears. “I love you too.” Even though it was a whisper, David’s voice still cracked on the last word. He cleared his throat and tried to look away. “When Sebastien said he had you? It felt like everything had ended. I don’t...I don’t think I could have recovered if we hadn’t found you. All those defenses I built to protect myself? You’ve broken them all.” 

The words stabbed through him, sharp and tender at the same time. He pressed a kiss to David’s palm. “You did find me. And I’m not going anywhere.”

***

Patrick gasped, startling upright. His heart was pounding so hard he was surprised the sound of it hadn’t woken David. Next to him in the bed, David mumbled to himself, his arm tightening around Patrick’s waist.

“Mmm...you okay?” David’s words were slurred, jumbled together. Patrick took a breath and then another, trying to bring his breathing and his heart rate under control.

“It’s fine.” The tremor in his voice gave him away and David stirred more fully beside him.

“Nightmare?” David’s hand caressed small circles in the middle of his back. He closed his eyes, but the fear rushed back, so he snapped them open again.

“Yeah.” He rubbed at his face, trying to chase away the images of skulls and dark and Sebastien. 

“Oh, honey. C’mere.” David pulled him down towards him and Patrick tucked his face into his shoulder.

“Can you...can you turn on the light?” The dark was closing in on him again. It was like he was five years old. But neither of them were entirely whole. He’d finally stopped sleeping with the light on as long as David was with him. But on the rare nights he slept alone, only the fully lit room kept his nightmares away. 

Without a word, David reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. He ran his fingers up Patrick’s back, scratching softly at hair at the back of his head. They were both quiet, the only noise was the ragged sound of Patrick’s breathing.

“I’ve been thinking…” There was a note of hesitation in David’s voice. “The General Store is up for lease, maybe we could open a store? Together?”

They had sold the Cartier brooch for $40,000 and Chronos had lifted David’s suspension and waived the fines for the incomplete contract, citing extenuating circumstances. He didn’t know what had happened to Sebastien, but he didn’t much care as long as he never had to see him again.

“Hmm…” He wasn’t sure if David was trying to distract him by talking about this now or if it was safer to talk about it in the dimly lit room.

“We could carry handmade crafts and beauty products and produce from local farms. And cheese. Like a general store, but with a specific aesthetic.” David rushed through his explanation, the arm that wasn’t around Patrick’s shoulders gestured wildly. Finally, he ran out of breath and stopped talking. There was a long pause. “You hate it.”

Patrick lifted his head from David’s shoulder so he could see his face. “I don’t hate it. I think it’s a good idea.” He needed something different. They both did. Processing permits for Ray was boring and now that David refused to time travel, every day Patrick was tempted by something he missed desperately but that remained tantalizingly out of reach. 

Patrick had tried to talk to David about time traveling again, but he’d pressed his lips together and looked away, refusing to discuss it. Patrick knew why David was scared to time travel but he missed the adventure. He’d spent so much of his life doing the proper, responsible thing, that he regretted the lost opportunity to explore, to see people and events that had once seemed impossible. But David refused to discuss it.

He yawned, intended or not, David’s distraction had worked. “I’ll start the paperwork in the morning.” 

***

The next morning, he pulled together everything they needed to start a new business. He sent the incorporation documents to David with instructions to fill them out so he could submit them. 

He was processing permits for Ray when David came in a couple of hours later. David normally didn’t stop by Ray’s during the day, mostly because they both got inappropriately distracted and they never knew when Ray might arrive unexpectedly. David handed him a handful of documents, on top was a folded piece of paper. With an unhappy sigh, David sat in the chair in front of his desk, fiddling anxiously with his rings. He unfolded the paper to see David’s annual renewal notice for his time travel contractor license.

“I don’t know what to do.” David stared fixedly at the globe on Patrick’s desk. “I’m scared that if we time travel again that I’ll lose you and I can’t...I can’t let that happen.” He reached out to spin the globe with a finger, his eyes following it as it spun round and round. “I know you want to travel again and you’ve been so patient and maybe you should go without me, except that sitting and waiting for you would destroy me.” He pulled his eyes away from the globe to meet Patrick’s, his face was tense and serious. “I don’t know what to do.”

Patrick moved around the desk to sit in the chair next to David’s. Without thinking, he held out a hand, David grasped it desperately and Patrick laced their fingers together, squeezing David’s hand gently.

“I do want to time travel again.” David flinched a little as Patrick confirmed what he’d feared and he ran his thumb along David’s knuckles. “But I’m not going to go alone. We’ll go when you’re ready and if you’re never ready, then that’s okay.” David blinked several times and looked down at their hands, tangled together. “You’re more important than any trip I could take and I don’t want to go without you.” He handed the renewal letter back to David. 

“Okay.” David toyed with the corner of the paper, bending it back and forth. He looked up and his dark eyes met Patrick’s. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. But...let’s renew it...just in case.”

He looked down at the other papers David had given him. Under business name, in strong, block letters, David had written ‘Rose Apothecary’ followed by ‘Proprietors: David Rose and Patrick Brewer.’ He raised his eyes to David’s, a smile spreading across his face.

“Is it okay? The name, I mean?” David was playing with his rings again and he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“It’s perfect. A little pretentious, maybe. But perfect.” David’s eyes flashed and he opened his mouth to protest. Before he could speak, Patrick kissed him softly. “It’s perfect, David.”

**Paris, 1961**

“Do you think we could sell authentic Parisian chocolate croissants at the store?” David licked his fingers as they walked along the River Seine. 

Patrick grinned and tried to ignore what the sight of David’s tongue on his fingers was doing to him. “I think it would negatively affect our business if you were time travelling to Paris for pastries every day.”

“Okay, but what about once a week? It could be a weekly special.”

“How about we get a few extra to take home with us? That way you won’t eat all of our inventory.”

“Deal.” David dug into the bag he was carrying for the second croissant.

It had taken about six months before David had come to him with a time travel contract. Their first trip had been short, a twelve hour trip to New York in 2010. David had been so nervous the entire time they’d been there that Patrick had been sure they would never time travel again. And yet, David had surprised him, one trip turning into two and then three. Neither of them had any desire to travel all the time, but every month or so one or the other of them would suggest a trip and they’d go, to London, to Rome, to Japan. 

He snatched the last bite out of David’s hand, ignoring his annoyed whine. He leaned in to kiss him, tasting the chocolate on his lips before slipping his fingers into David’s chocolate free hand. “Paris is a beautiful city, although I like the above-ground parts better than the underground ones.”

David squeezed his hand and pulled them to a stop so he could see Patrick’s face.

“Is it okay? Being back here?” David’s voice was a little uneven and Patrick knew he worried that coming here had hurt him, had scared up old ghosts.

“It’s better than okay.” He wasn’t sure how to articulate what it meant to be back in Paris. The fear had flared up when David had first suggested it, but he’d wanted to come, to lay the past to rest and forge new memories. “This is what I want to remember about Paris. The two of us together. Being here with you, that erases all the other memories.” 

David ducked his head, the way he often did when Patrick talked about what David meant to him. “This is what I want to remember, too.”

He slid his arms around David’s waist, waiting until David placed his hands on his shoulders before leaning in to kiss him, slow and sweet. “You make everything better, David. No matter where we are, you make everything okay.”

David hummed at him, pleased and embarrassed. “You know what’s not okay? You eating the last of the croissants! Now we have to go back to that bakery.”

With a laugh, Patrick let David lead him back into the streets of Paris, all thoughts of his previous visit lost amidst David’s quest for chocolate pastries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read to the end and left comments and kudos! I really appreciate how lovely and supportive this fandom is to everyone.


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